voluntaryapnea | 10. I can't get used to it/I'll never get used to it

10. I can't get used to it/I'll never get used to it

[Video -- Scorpius]

So...thanks. For finding me and taking me to the infirmary during the breach.

[As usual, he wonders if his own death would have prevented that of someone else's. Allison's. It always seems to come down to that. But he knows that despite the death toll, his own death would also have taken its toll on his friends. He knows that if there's an ultimate choice at stake -- and there is, he'll always choose Allison's life over his own. But in this situation he hadn't known, couldn't have known, and Scorpius certainly didn't, so while the thanks is belated, it is also sincere.]

[Video -- Jack]

Hey. Thanks for...well, Scott said you gave me your own blood or I probably wouldn't have survived. That's pretty awesome doctor-ing, considering the limited amount of supplies and stuff.

[Video -- Scott and Lydia]

She knows we're leaving stuff out. I told her no one really wanted to talk about my murder spree right now, but I don't know if... [He looks down, holds his breath for a moment. He doesn't know if she believes that's all there is. That alone is a lot. But Allison is smart, and she knows all of them so very well. He exhales.]

I'm starting to think maybe we should tell her. Before she winds up finding out some other way.

[Video -- Andrew]

Hey. Any chance you'd wanna do a movie or video game thing soon?

[Video -- Wardens]

Has anyone ever changed the specifics of their deal without leaving the Barge for awhile first? Is that something that's possible?

[Video -- Jean]

I know we haven't really talked but uh, I was wondering if that whole offer you made a few days ago about people talking to you...if that was still on the table. [A beat.]

Because I think that's probably something I should do.

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[At least he's being honest. Lydia takes a deep breath and nods, smiling softly at him as she wraps her free hand around his back and leads him toward her bed.]

That's what I thought. And I honestly have no idea what she will say, Stiles. But I know this won't change how she sees you.

[He sits down on her bed and looks up at her. No. He doesn't think it'll change how Allison sees him. But it should.]

I know.

[She looks down at him for a moment then nods and takes a seat next to him so they can wait for the others.]

I know it's near impossible to try and relax, but at least it will be done soon. [And then she plans on keeping a close eye on Allison for the next couple of days.]

[Allison doesn't say a word on the way to Lydia's cabin.

It's how she is at the start of a hunt, when there's no room for words over the slice of a honing stone over the edge of a blade, or the metallic sounds of a gun being loaded, the twist of an arrowhead being screwed to a bolt. The weapons speak for themselves: promises of pain yet to be inflicted, a conversation in bullets and knives about how death will be meted out this time.

She doesn't have a target yet...but when she does, she will be ready.

She's quiet...but without really meaning to, her shoulder keeps brushing Scott's as they walk side by side, their arms jostling together. It's no more than reaching for that solid heat, that reminder of why she's here.

Warmth. Safety. Love...family.

When they reach Lydia's cabin, Allison extends her hand to knock first, musing at how much regret she feels...distant and detached, but she felt no regret when she fought for Gerard, when she nearly killed for him.

She has no idea what she's walking into here. Whether she will fight for her pack, kill for them, bleed for them...even die for them...it's sorrow and joy at the same time, a wistful sort of pleasure because she's finally doing it for the right reasons.

The pack may not see it that way. The Admiral may not see it that way...but if they give her a name, if someone has to be punished...she'll tell them her deal, in detail. She'll trust them to save each other.

Whatever is about to happen is bad...but she will make it okay. She's ready.

And she tries to communicate that all to Scott by pressing her shoulder more solidly against his as they wait for Lydia to open the door.]

[Her shoulder keeps brushing his, and all he wants to do is turn around, grab her arm and just run somewhere else. He wants to go to the river and find a river, build a raft and float away with her. Anything to stop her finding out, anything to change what they're about to tell her.

They were supposed to fix it before she ever needed to know, but they're just kids. They're so used to lying, but that doesn't mean they do it well.

He doesn't say anything on the walk over. Part of him wants to fill the silence, but he just lets it grow between them. It feels like they're on opposite sides of a canyon, but every time her shoulder brushes his, she feels a little closer.

And at the door, when she knocks, he stretches his hand to close around hers and squeeze. Just a little, just for a moment. His hand is back at his side by the time the door opens.]

[He hears the knock and he has to shut his eyes for a moment. They've tried so hard to keep what they're about to tell Allison from Allison to begin with. His breath hitches as doubts race through his mind.

Maybe this isn't right. Maybe they should just keep maintaining this secret. He's good at lying. It's his natural inclination approximately fifty percent of the time. He's just done so much less of it since his dad had found out about all the supernatural stuff. He's out of practice. Not as good at it as he used to be.

He bites down hard on his lip, opening his eyes and looking over at Lydia before he rises to his feet. It isn't his room, but this is still all happening because of the Nogitsune. He needs to have a hand in trying to fix things. He moves over to the door and opens it, looking first at Scott, then at Allison before stepping aside to let them in.]

[Lydia steps up next to Stiles, a hand over his back as she realizes he's the one opening the door. She was going to do it herself but she understands his need to have some control over the situation. Also his need to just get it over with.

Still, when her eyes fall on Scott and Allison, she can tell just how tense Scott is, and he's by far the worst at hiding his emotions out of the four of them. And she is probably the best one at it, so she smiles softly, trying to offer the others some comfort even thought she's not feeling any of it herself.]

This won't be long. [It might be new information for Allison, but it's a reminder for the other two.]

No. It won't.

[Allison moves into the room and turns to face the three of them, arms folded as her face moves over each beloved face in turn: Lydia's gentle expression, Stiles and his haggard visage, Scott looking for all the world like a scared dog ready to bolt at the first loud noise.

She doesn't want to be the first to shout...but she has no choice.

Folding her arms, she straightens and takes a deep breath.]

Tell me.

[He does. He does want to run, more than anything. But he can't, because if he can't help Lydia and Stiles shoulder this weight, then he doesn't deserve anything. He breathes in deep, exhales, and and lifts his eyes to hers.]

We've been keeping something from you. We didn't want you to know, because...

[He trails off. The why should be obvious, eventually.] You know time isn't straight, here, right? We came to the Barge from - later than you. And something happened.

[He recognizes that he's just talking around it, trying to avoid it, an that shame steadies him.]

You died, Allison.

[We didn't want you to know for so damn many reasons, Stiles thinks. He wants to reach out and lay a hand on Scott's shoulder, or Lydia's, or Allison's, or maybe sink into the floor and out of sight all together, but he bites down hard on his lower lip instead, straightening his shoulders and wincing when Scott finally says it. His heart is already beating too fast in his chest and he rubs at the back of his neck.]

Saving Isaac's life. [He hesitates, not daring to look at Lydia or Scott right now.] The Oni...

[He shuts his eyes for a second, shakes his head.] But we're gonna fix it. You're gonna be fine.

[I'm so sorry.]

[Lydia takes a step forward toward Allison, her heart beating hard and her stomach turning because of the words both of the boys say. Because of the memories of that night.

She's no longer smiling. She's not that strong. But she tries to keep her expression as blank as possible even though her eyes are brighter and redder than they were seconds ago.]

You were protecting all of us. You were the one who figured out how to end it.

[She can't not feel the guilt. The guilt of failing Allison, and the weight that comes with it. But Lydia knows she can't let herself go down that path. Not now. Allison may not show it, but she will need her to be strong.]

[You died, Allison.

She hears the words, but she doesn't...understand them. Not right away, not the way she's supposed to. You see, she's a soldier. She's there for a fight, she's ready for war. She's armed and she's fully prepared to sacrifice everything to avenge her pack.

To strike out at the one who hurt them.

She hears the words. She knows what they mean. She has to in order for her mind to bypass that and hear what Scott is truly saying, his voice overriding Stiles' anguished explanation and Lydia's steady, gentle tone.

You died, Allison.

She hears it, and her fingers twitch, ready to go for her dagger until the words find a different place in her head...in the gaping hole she sees in their eyes every time she's with them, in the void that's put so much distance between her and the people she cares about the most in the world.

You died, Allison.

She hears the words. She does not understand them...not that way.

You hurt us, Allison.

This is what she understands.]

It...it was me?

[Her eyes are wide and glassy, and her expression...it's open and blank, unreadable. The words leave her on breath alone, breath she can't spare because she can't seem to draw enough of it.]

I'm the one? I...me, it--it was...it was me...

[She died...she's seventeen, and she's dead.

There was a funeral. There was an Oni...there was something she missed, something she did wrong.

You died, Allison.

You broke us, Allison.

Lydia felt it. Stiles thinks he did it. And Scott...

...her father...

Her features are bone white, dangerously white, and she's swaying visibly on her feet.

She died...she's the one that needs to die. She's the one to blame.

You died, Allison.

You failed as a hunter and a friend, Allison.

You cut this hole in us, Allison. You're the reason we can't smile convincingly, Allison. You made the monster we all fear because you weren't fast enough, Allison.

You abandoned us in the dark and we can't get out, Allison.]

...it was me all along...

[You died, Allison.

You died, Allison...]

[The blood drains from her face and Scott reaches out. She sways and he steps closer. She takes his guilt, all of their guilt, and balances it on her shoulders, and he pulls her into a hug. He doesn't know what else to do. Alan was the same - he doesn't have the words to convince them, he doesn't know what to say, so he does the only thing he can do.

He'll hold her, for as long as she'll let him, because she didn't break them. She didn't hurt them. Her loss hurt, but not a mistake, not...

He can't even find the words in his head. His arms tighten, and his eyes close.]

[Stiles' breath hitches when she speaks, when it dawns on her what they're saying. His own face is paler than usual and he feels nauseated. Seventeen year olds aren't supposed to die. Erica and Boyd and Heather weren't supposed to die.

Allison wasn't supposed to die.

His heart twists as Scott reaches out and pulls her into his arms and Stiles hangs back a few feet away, silent and twisting his fingers together.]

[Lydia's face crumbles when she hears the realization in Allison's voice, when she reads the shock on her face. She immediately wants to tell her that it won't matter, because she is there now. And she will be back when they get home. Alive, safe.

But she knows she just wants to say that to reassure herself. She also knows Allison needs time to process it.

She's already stepping closer to her when Scott does and wraps his arms around Allison. But that doesn't stop her.

Lydia steps forward, too. She wraps an arm around Allison's back and tiptoes so she can press a kiss to her temple.

Even now, it's not lost on her that Stiles is keeping his distance. She knows it's because of his guilt. Because he doesn't think he deserves to hug Allison. Not when he feels responsible for her death in the first place.

But he is wrong. Not only does he deserve to be there, they need him there. They need him close and they need each other for support and shared strength.

So without pulling her arm away, Lydia turns her head back to look at him. Then holds her free hand out even though his body language and the look on his face only make her heart hurt even more.]

[She doesn't understand why she's being hugged. She stands, limp and unresponsive as Scott embraces her, then Lydia. Warm lips touch her temple, she smells her perfume and the waxy sweetness of make up that always vaguely clings to her.

She can't find enough air to speak. To apologize. To explain.

"I'm so sorry. You guys, I thought someone hurt you, I never imagined I was the cause."]

I...I w...I ca...

[Scott's arms are all that's keeping her upright now. Lydia's arms are all that's left of her bones as her head sags to the side, her temple resting against Lydia's head...accepting the comfort of the pack because she needs it just to stand.

"I need to know how I died. Tell me how it happened so I can stop it. Don't leave anything out, I need to plan for this. I need to protect you from this...oh God, you watched it happen again. I did it to you twice...please, tell me how I died so I can stop it."]

I have...please, I have...

[Tears are sliding from her eyes now, and she finds strength enough to tuck her face against the crook of Scott's neck. It's always been a good place for tears before, the warmth of his skin burning them all away.

But they won't stop. They just keep coming, while she sags, still and breathless and broken in his arms.

"You have to understand, I can't stop protecting you guys. I love you, you're my family, but I can fix this. You're...oh, God, you're all here because of me. I'm right, aren't I? I died, and you all came here because I died, it's what you do. God, you beautiful idiots...you stupid fucking beautiful people, why are you wasting this on me? Bring your mom back, Stiles. Lydia, don't let Peter Hale bite you. Scott, just...go save Boyd and Erica. Save the lives I helped end by hunting them down."]

Don't...

[Her arms find their way up, one to go around Scott's neck, the other to circle Lydia's shoulders, limp at first, but then harder, tighter, crushing them close because she can't speak and she needs to make them understand.

"Don't waste this precious chance on me, not when you can have so much more than me. I'll die a thousand times if you're all happy and safe and loved, but I'll suffer for the rest of my life if I know you could have had everything you ever wanted, but you chose me instead..."]

Stiles.

[He's not here, he's missing, and now it starts to hurt. If an Oni killed her, if they were looking for Stiles...

"It's not your fault, Stiles. Please don't blame yourself, it's not your fault."]

Stiles. Stiles, please...Stiles, please...

[Now her voice is breaking, now she's starting to shake with sobs, because Stiles thinks it's his fault. He thinks he killed her, he's standing apart, and nothing in the world hurts more than that. Death couldn't hurt this bad, nothing could hurt this bad, because Stiles thinks he killed her and she needs him to be with her. To join this ridiculous pack hug and know he's part of them, and part of her, and that he didn't break their friends, it was all her fault...]

Stiles...please...

[His eyes are wet. He's not sure when it started, but his eyes are wet and his neck is wet and the wall is blurry over Allison's shoulder. She goes limp and he holds on, barely bends, because he could hold her entire weight with one arm if he had to, if she needed him to, he could do anything. He holds her upright, and he keeps holding her, he doesn't let her limpness rebuff him. She was everything he ever wanted, once, she was his whole world, and he loved her for her smiles and her jokes and her light. He loved her for her strength, even when she thought she was weak. She's not standing under her own power now, but she's not weak. He knows, because she comes back. Because her arms come up, because he can feel them tighten around him and Lydia, and there are definitely tears in his eyes, on his cheeks, even if he's mostly silent about it.

She's trying to say so much, he knows it because he knows her, but it won't come out, and none of them can read her mind. He lifts his head when she calls for Stiles, though, and abruptly Scott is wondering the same thing, why isn't Stiles here, why isn't he where he needs to be?

(Part of him feels bad when he turns toward his best friend, because when has he ever cried that Stiles hasn't?)

Stiles, please, is all she says, over and over, and he sees Lydia's hand outstretched to him. He hears Allison begging him to close the gap, and Scott doesn't even hesitate. He reaches out for Stiles, he'll pull him in if he's close enough, he'll hold out his hand, too, if he's not, because Stiles belongs next to him. He always has.]

[Lydia reaches back for him first but he hesitates because he knows he's the reason for all of this. Allison thinks it's her fault, somehow, but if his mind had been stronger in the first place, maybe that thing wouldn't have possessed him. Or maybe it was because the Nogitsune had seen the same dark, dangerous potential in him that Peter Hale once had. Either way, he can't help but think they're safer without him.

But then Allison is saying his name, pleading, and something inside of him breaks. He draws in a shuddering breath, eyes red-rimmed and full of unshed tears. Scott reaches out next, and for a second he meets his best friend's eyes, sees the tears there. They're all broken, because that is what death does. He's been intimately familiar with it since he was eight. But they're here to fix it. It's what he holds onto. They can fix it.

He hesitates only a second longer, then launches himself at the three of them, wrapping his arms around them and burying his face against Allison's shoulder, a sob escaping him unbidden. It's a horrifying sound to his own ears and his fingers curl tightly around the back of Scott's shirt and he draws Lydia closer instinctively.

He doesn't speak because he can't. All that would come out is broken apologies that would never be enough.]

[The closest thing to relief Lydia can feel right now is when Stiles comes closer and she can wrap her arm around him, her other arm still around Allison and her hand over Scott's arm.

She's crying, too. And although she presses her face down between Stiles' chest and Allison's shoulder so she can be closer to them, she doesn't feel the need to hide. Because she trusts these three people more than anyone else. She feels closer to them more than anyone else. And she knows she doesn't have to be embarrassed of breaking down in front of them. None of them will call her crazy. They won't accuse her of having a meltdown. Because they know the real her and they know she's not doing this for attention. She's not doing this because she wants something. She hopes they know how much they mean to her.

She wants them to understand, especially Allison, how impossible it would be to move on from losing any of them. The pack is more than family to her, Allison is more than a sister. They are the place she feels safe and protected and she might still be learning the how, but she needs them to know there is nothing she wouldn't do to protect them back.

If it's possible, she pulls all three of them even closer when her chest shakes with a silent sob.

Lydia knows the weight of having failed Allison will never completely go away. But she also knows how lucky she is that they are all getting a second chance and she refuses to fail Allison, or any of them again. She can't put any of them through that. She won't. And no matter how much better at figuring things out and fighting they might be, she knows it's on her to prevent it all from happening in the first place.]

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10. I can't get used to it/I'll never get used to it

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