voluntaryapnea | 18. You want a revelation/Some kind of resolution/Tell me what you want me to say

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18. You want a revelation/Some kind of resolution/Tell me what you want me to say

[Open Zero Spam]

[Stiles sits with his back to the wall in a cell in Zero, scowl etched onto his features. He can hear Jackson's heart beating from across the hall and he wishes he'd ripped it out of his chest so at least he'd have some peace and quiet while he's stuck down here. Being alone would be better than being stuck in the same vicinity as Jackson Whittemore.

He shuts his eyes and covers his ears with his hands, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. He doesn't know exactly how containment down here works, but he knows that short of someone letting him out, he's trapped for now.

It's fine. He'll deal. He always does. He's not thrilled about it, because there are things he could be doing if he wasn't locked in a freaking jail cell.

He opens his eyes again when he hears the distant echo of footsteps approaching -- but whether they're approaching his cell or Jackson's, or if someone else is being locked up -- that he's not sure about yet.

So he stares at the bars ahead, eyes dark and narrow. Waiting.]

[Public Voice Post]

[He's never done well with boredom. After several hours of sitting in relative silence, he picks up his comm. The boredom is as evident in his tone as the sarcastic taunting.]

I have to say that if this is the worst you people can do for punishment, I'm severely disappointed. No wonder our barge graduates more people than yours. You don't even have an ounce of creativity.

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[He wants to tell him about how Allison keeps coming around. About how for whatever reason, she has it in her head that they're packmates. He isn't sure what keeps him from telling Scott, but he doesn't. He shrugs instead.]

Bored out of my skull. Stuck down here with Jackson. [And he knows Scott will know how much he hates that.]

But at least I got to kick his ass first.

And they say denial isn't just a river in Egypt.

[His voice is fully of pity and he smirks.]

I'm sure you have plenty of your own fun when you take off to London. Not that any of us really cared. We didn't exactly keep in touch.

The whole place is boring.

How bad is it down there anyway?

[He almost winces at the growl and wonders why. He sure as hell didn't wince when Jackson growled at him. The only other time he winces from another wolf's growling is when the other wolf is...

When the other wolf is an alpha.

He stiffens a little and sits up a little straighter, cocking his head to the side and staring hard at her. He watches her bare her teeth and then sit down on the ground, glowering at him as if challenging him.

Wolves don't do well alone, and even as a human Stiles didn't do well alone. He tended to fasten himself to the sides of certain people -- his dad. Scott. Lydia. And hold as tightly as possible. Things are different now, but maybe they're less different than he wants to admit.]

You met him, didn't you? In the arena. The other Scott.

[She senses it in him, an answer from his wolf. She doesn't reach for the power in it, though, but instead shifts closer to the door when she sits down, resting her head against the bars...wishing for all the world she could reach out and touch him, complete that connection.

His question brings her up short, but after a moment she nods, the tiniest smile touching her lips.]

I did...you did, too, didn't you? You...you saw. [What their own Scott could have been, could still be if he could be reached.]

Yeah it is.

It's not as bad as it could be. I'd be better if I wasn't stuck down here with a guy I loathe, though.

[He doesn't move closer, even if part of him kind of wants to. Even if part of him feels compelled to. He doesn't.

He looks away at her answer, his fingernails digging into the floor beneath him and gives a brief nod.]

Yeah. I did.

[And he misses that Scott. So much like the Scott that he lost in his world. Full of hope. Of goodness.]

[It's brief, but Allison's nose twitches at the whiff of longing that drifts across the cell. It's touched with sorrow, and it's a sorrow Allison understands.

She scoots closer to the door, hands wrapped around the bars. Her forehead is digging into the bars by her face, but she doesn't relent, she can't. Everything in her is being pulled towards him like a magnet...the need to touch, to soothe, to comfort. Her eyes are wide with the tenuous hope that's clenching in her chest because Stiles knows. He knows, and he wants Scott back.]

Stiles, he's not gone. The Scott we know, we can have him back. Both of us, we just have to work together. To remind him that the man we met is still a part of him.

[She pauses, her features softening with the memory of kissing him, that split second when he hesitated, softened...]

I know he's in there. I've seen it...and whatever you may think of me, nothing would make me happier than to give him back to you.

[This time he moves, though it isn't much. He inches just a little closer to the cell door, heart beating a little bit faster at the certainty in her voice. He wants to know what makes her so damned sure.]

What have you seen? Why are you so certain?

[He peers at her with dark eyes, the briefest flicker of hope appearing there before it vanishes once more. He looks down.]

I don't hate you.

[His voice is nearly inaudible.]

What guy? I'm just bored, don't really care.

Jackson Whittemore. Know him?

[She doesn't just see him shift closer, she can feel it like a rope being pulled, drawing him nearer. It makes her heart race and, at the same time, a tension in her shoulders start to ease.

She only just hears his confession. The smile that comes threatens to split her face, breaks her heart in the best way possible...but she says nothing. It's enough that he's said it out loud...]

I kissed him. The first day, I met with him, and I kissed him...and just for a second, for one second...he let me.

[She sighs, frowning a little as she looks down herself.]

Then he tried to choke me out and scare me. Told me he didn't want me when I said I still loved him. But it wasn't true, I could smell it. That part of him, the one we love? It's still there, and he's terrified of it.

We just have to show him he doesn't have to be afraid.

[ Disbelief twisted his eyebrows. Because what did London have to do with anything? ]

So are you going to shut up or not?

No. [She doesn't get real satisfaction out of anger, she thinks as she slows down. tries to make herself really heard instead of a target for him. It just doesn't take as much work to be angry, to hate most of the people here even as their better versions.] It's just easy.

[His smirk widens and he moves away from the bars and drops down onto the edge of the bed. And then he starts to sing.]

I'm Henry the Eighth I am, I'm Henry the Eighth I am, I am.

Then you're doing it wrong.

[He stares at her at the admission, but also at how bright her smile is. He looks away, closing his eyes for a moment. He still remembers those first few weeks after Scott met Allison. Still remembers how happy Scott was. How much he loved her.

He lets out a breath, not surprised when she tells him Scott tried to choke her. That she could smell that he was lying. Of course he was lying, because if there's one universal when it comes to Scott, it has to be that Scott loves Allison -- one way or another.]

How? [His voice is quiet, and he feels like he should know the answer to this himself. He's known Scott longer than anyone. But he doubts everything these days.] How do we do that?

Sadly nope, is he fun in that beat him and he keeps getting up way?

[ He's all about fun.]

[Allison's smile grows fonder at the question, even as her chest tightens with a small swell of joy that makes her forget how uncomfortable this separation is for a moment, because they aren't separate in that moment.

She's reaching him. She's getting through to him, and it feels wonderful.]

We don't lie to him, and we don't give up on him. He can't escape from the truth, and if we stick with him, prove that we care, he won't want to. And trust me, it does work.

[Her smile grows, and with a deep breath, she reaches through the bars, extending a hand towards him, inviting him closer.]

After all...we've been talking a whole five minutes without arguing.

Just to talk.

[ it's a little strange seeing Stiles like this, or- rather, seeing this version of Stiles right in front of her. he really does look the same, but that's not the shocking part - it's that even his identical features don't make up for the fact that he moves differently, even sounds different. this isn't just Stiles-In-A-Bad-Mood, it's someone else entirely. she's taking her time getting used to that. her hand moves to rest on her hip, the waterbottle still held in the other, now down at her side ]

I know you're not him, but Stiles and I are friends here. And I know you're not him, but I'm thinking - I'm hoping - that maybe if we just take a second to talk and figure each other out, things don't have to be different, with us. Just until we're all back where we belong.

Edited 2014-10-13 22:38 (UTC)

You're doing it wrong.

[way mature touko]

I highly recommend it if you get the chance.

[He smirks.]

So you're a warden on the Good Ship Lollipop then?

No. This place is stupid too.

It's not the worst.

It's just one of the standards.

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18. You want a revelation/Some kind of resolution/Tell me what you want me to say

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