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✈ day one hundred and seventy one, video
[Jack looks a little stressed. Understandably. He's got a mean five o'clock shadow going on, and from the angle he's got the journal at, you can see Scott standing by the door to the infirmary, looking similarly tense and worried, but okay. They're both fine.
They're just also alone, in the infirmary, with limited weapons, resources, and access to things like morphine and anything more useful than bandages and basic antiseptic.
(Jack's made do with less, but that doesn't stop the resentment from coiling in his gut again, setting him further on edge.)]
Scott and I are in the infirmary. It's safe, but the hall outside seems pretty bad.
[Or at least, Scott had said it smelled weird, and Jack is not really in a position to be doubting his teenage werewolf warden right now.]
If anyone needs medical attention, we're here, and we can help. If you're stuck and need help, call us, and I can try to talk you through how to get up here without hurting yourself or your friends worse. If you're in your room, get first aid kits, scissors, water, food, alcohol if you don't have anything else to sterilize a wound, anything that can be made into bandages. People are going to get hurt, and I will try to save you, but I can't do that if we're not being smart.
[And then his expression twists into something that's bitter and fond, and a little less psychotically focused, because he throws this out there like he doesn't mean it, but he does. Or at least, he's starting to again.]
Live together, die alone.
[Jack lets out a breath, composes himself again, and then the same incredibly focused energy is back in place of whatever that was.]
Has anyone seen Dillon or David?
They're just also alone, in the infirmary, with limited weapons, resources, and access to things like morphine and anything more useful than bandages and basic antiseptic.
(Jack's made do with less, but that doesn't stop the resentment from coiling in his gut again, setting him further on edge.)]
Scott and I are in the infirmary. It's safe, but the hall outside seems pretty bad.
[Or at least, Scott had said it smelled weird, and Jack is not really in a position to be doubting his teenage werewolf warden right now.]
If anyone needs medical attention, we're here, and we can help. If you're stuck and need help, call us, and I can try to talk you through how to get up here without hurting yourself or your friends worse. If you're in your room, get first aid kits, scissors, water, food, alcohol if you don't have anything else to sterilize a wound, anything that can be made into bandages. People are going to get hurt, and I will try to save you, but I can't do that if we're not being smart.
[And then his expression twists into something that's bitter and fond, and a little less psychotically focused, because he throws this out there like he doesn't mean it, but he does. Or at least, he's starting to again.]
Live together, die alone.
[Jack lets out a breath, composes himself again, and then the same incredibly focused energy is back in place of whatever that was.]
Has anyone seen Dillon or David?
[video]
[She can answer questions. Quietly. The voices in the mirrors are getting louder in her ears again...
...we'll find him. We'll follow. We'll kill him. We'll make you watch, and then we'll slit your throat, you pathetic...
She shuts her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.]
I don't know, but I'm coming. Just...keep talking to me. Please keep talking. [She pauses, and her breath hitches with fear, her focus growing hazy again under that panic and that sense of dread.]
They won't shut up, and I can't...I'm going to shoot them if I have to...
[video]
[It's a bad joke, and he doesn't really feel like it helps much anyway, but he doesn't care. He just listens, and starts talking.]
You're gonna be okay, Allison. It's just the gas, or whatever it is. Did you ever read comic books? Stiles and me, we used to go to this comic shop all the time. The owner used to yell at us for reading issues there. Then it closed up. You know Batman? And the Joker? They made that movie with him. It's the Joker, okay? He makes this gas that messes with people's heads.
Don't let him mess with your head, Allison. Just trust me, and keep walking toward the infirmary. It's safe in here.
[video]
It's enough to make her smile, and listening...really listening to him is enough to bring her a moment of clarity right before it slides away again, and those dark versions of herself are ready to strike, ready to execute her for imagined crimes...
I trust you.
She's bleeding, she's frightened, and she's lost...but she shuts her eyes and keeps walking, fingers trailing along one wall of mirrors.
Every step that echoes is the sound of a dozen hunters coming for her. Every breath is an arrow being loosed. Every creak, every distant echo is the sound of a gun being cocked or a voice signaling another soldier in hushed whispers, a brush of cloth as hand signals communicate her location, her vulnerabilities, the precise moment to strike...
She keeps her eyes shut. She trusts Scott.
And she keeps walking until the slick glass under her fingers shifts, from wall to door. The moment it happens, she starts knocking, pounding...not caring if her cuts bleed, if her wounds open.
She just keeps knocking, too frightened to call out lest they find her.]
[video]
When the pounding starts he falls silent: his comm clatters to the floor, giving her just a view of the ceiling. But it's only a second later that he's wrenching open the infirmary door, wrapping an arm tight around her and hauling her toward him, forward, out of the hall. He slams the door shut again, and for a moment, just holds her against his chest. He's afraid to let go, even though he knows he has to make sure she's uninjured.]
It's okay. It's okay, you're here. You're safe. You're safe now.
[video] --> [spam]
All of it is muffled against Scott's shoulder, where her face is pressed so tight there's a question about how much air she's getting.
Scott's shoulder is the only safe place in the universe right now. It's the only thing in the universe she can trust.
And, as the first kernel of clarity sinks back into her mind, she feels it's the only safe place she can ride out the worst of the violent, paranoid hysteria that has her in its grip.]
[spam]
It's easier said than done.]