lydiascreams | [033. Keep giving me hope for a better day.]

[Video - Pack + Friends*]
(ooc: *if you could see Stiles' previous filter, you can see this, + Lydia's friends.)

[Lydia is definitely looking a lot better than she was before the port. There's a massive pile of shopping bags on her bed that she still needs to put away, but she has Prada sitting on her lap, looking very pleased with himself.]

For those of you who were worried, we're back! We managed to come back on our own just fine and we just got here a couple of hours ago.

If anyone -- Scott -- is looking for Stiles, he went to his cabin.

And Allison? [She grins brightly and shows her this picture on her phone.]

Come see me!

[Video - Anyone she offended with her previous post + Arthas]
[After greeting everyone and taking some time to unpack, she finally sits down on her chair and sends the message she's been dreading. But she knows she has to do it.]

Before the port, I did some things I'm not proud of. I wasn't in the best frame of mind and I think this is a big reason why the Admiral took away my inmate to begin with.

This break from the Barge has given me time to think and hopefully find a better way of dealing with things here, of being a better warden. If anyone would like to ask me questions about anything, or wants to clear things up with me, I'm available.

I won't try to justify the things I did before, but I want to apologize to anyone who might have been hurt or offended by my actions.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Something besides die.

Lydia takes a deep breath and nods slightly. She understands that, probably better than he thinks. Better than she could explain to him now in the state he's in. But it's one of the reasons why she and Allison have argued so much since she got on the Barge.

Because she doesn't wanna lose her again. She doesn't want her being a hunter. She doesn't want her risking herself to protect her. Or Isaac. Or whoever she thinks she has to protect next time something happens.

When Dean looks at her hand on his shoulder and doesn't pull away, she takes it as a positive sign and gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze.]

I'm here for you, Dean. I guess you do know that now. But I'll do anything I can to help you.

And it's not just because of everything you've done for Stiles. Or all the ways how you have helped me since you got here.

I do care about you. I believe in you and I want to help you see that. [And this is the kind she is now. She learned to say things like this because Jackson would need the confidence boost before a big game or before-- anything, really. But she learned how to mean it, how to connect to people with the pack. How to truly care about people and be okay with letting them know she does.]

[Dean can feel the weight of Lydia's hand there as clearly as he doesn't really feel the squeeze; he's listening to her voice, to the rhythm of her words, letting them wash against him like the leftover waves at the edge of a lake. Not enough to move him but undeniable, unstoppable, and he doesn't try.

He shakes his head, just once, and breathes out.]

You shouldn't. [Care. Believe in. Want to help. But this isn't harsh, as he's been in the past; there isn't even really any expectation that she'll listen. It's not a warning. Just two words, just one fact, set out in the air between them to take or to leave, like something he's not coming back for. No one should. They do, but no one should.

He breathes in, deep and bracing, one hand reaching up to clumsily, heavily pat hers where she's got hold of him; then he lowers his hands to the bench to begin pushing himself up.]

But yeah. Yeah. I think I need...

I think I need to. Uh. Sleep, or. [Sleep won't happen, even like this, he knows that; he hasn't hit that wall yet, needs another small push, so.] Drink or. Something. Think I should go.

[033. Keep giving me hope for a better day.]

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