lydiascreams | [017. I reveal nothing, both played fate.]

[017. I reveal nothing, both played fate.]

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[Her body is still shaking from the scream, from watching Zane kill Vergil when she wakes up in her bed. Her bed. They are back. And she almost rushes right out of her room toward the infirmary when she realizes she has a katana and a necklance in each of her hands. Her hands that are covered in blood. Both items that she retrieved from Vergil's body.

So instead, Lydia takes time to shower, to both clean herself and pull herself together. She knows from experience that, after something like that, no one needs a reminder of what happened, of how terrifying all of it was walking around the Barge. And it helps her, too.
But as she sits down to put on her make up (not bothering to cover the bruises around her neck this time, either. She survived again. Twice). But when she checks the network as she gets ready, her stomach drops again.

Allison, Mr. Powers. Both of their messages tell her something is wrong. Worse, they tell her that things aren't normal. They tell her that some people are still switched even thought they are already on the right barge.

Or maybe they she is on the wrong barge. Their rooms were the same for the most part.

So Lydia ventures her way out of her room and into the hallway slowly. The mountain ash line underneath her door tells her that she really is back in the right Barge. But then, she has plenty of werewolf enemies in the mirror barge, too. She heads toward the Infirmary to check on Vergil. And once she's done there, she makes her way straight to the seventh floor, using her key to get into Stiles' room ]

[Open Video]
[A few hours later, it's pretty clear to Lydia that this is the normal barge and that there are plenty of mirror people in there still. Which means she needs to be careful and pretend to be her mirror self for as long as possible. A couple of people already know who she really is, but she trusts Stiles, Allison and Mr. Powers not to out her.

So she puts her best glare on and starts the video. Very visible bruises on her neck both from when Jackson tried to strangle her and from the necklace that Zane used against her have already formed.

If someone she trusts contacts her, she will just switch to private and tell them the truth.]

What the hell is going on?

[ooc: Lydia is not switched. More info here.]

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I don't know. It's hard to tell until-- everyone is back where they belong.

[She takes a deep breath, watching him closely as she tries to think of the best way to explain this to him. The mirrors are already complicated enough to explain, on top of the port they experienced and this mess the Barges are in right now, she doesn't want to overwhelm him even more.]

I don't think this has ever happened before. People from their Barge coming to ours. It wasn't like this the last two times they've collided. But even if they do remember, most people here understands that they aren't us.

[ There was a new sort of tension that washed over his face. It wasn't quite fear, but that was certainly part of it. A barely masked sort of dread. The way he remembered people--the way his other self did. All of the awful, twisted versions of people he'd known for so long. The way his other self remembered Lydia. He looked her over, but when he saw that bruise again, he cast his gaze back down. No, she was really her. She wouldn't be telling him this if she wasn't. ]

I thought you said it was over.

[ She'd never actually outright said that. He'd only assumed it by her words. He needed it to be over. ]

It seems to be for some people. For us. We're back to normal, but not everyone is.

[Most of the pack, most of the people he knows aren't. But considering the way he's looking at her, she doesn't know if she should bring that up yet. She notices the way he looks away and she squeezes his hand again. She knows what he's feeling, she felt that same kind of guilt after she was her other self.]

You'll need to be careful with who you talk to.

[ It went beyond guilt. At least for what he'd done to her. But he remembered enjoying it. Sure, he could push her away and hurt her on an emotional level--he'd done it before. But physically? He could never do that. But there was another layer to it. As much as he hated having done that to her, everything else he remembered--the strength and power he'd had--he wanted it. Even here and now, with a reminder of what it had done to someone he cared about it. It was like wanting the bite all over again.

He just nodded at her words. His chin rested on his arm, eyes closed. Trying to sort his head out, as if it could ever be so easy. How much of that power had been the alpha, and how much of it was being a warden? His thumb rubbed gently over Lydia's fingers, trying to stay focused. And then finally, he spoke. ]

Like who?

I don't know everyone yet. Allison, for sure.

[She doesn't want to bring Stiles up right now, and she doesn't want to mention Scott after what happened the last time she did. Not when she doesn't even know which Scott is there. And if it's the other one, then they are in trouble.]

I don't know how much you got from the other you, about the other Barge. But that place-- it's cruel, Jackson. And people who may be harmless here could be dangerous there and vice versa.

[ For a moment, he was silent, trying to sort out the memories. His other self had been as new as he was on this side. But he'd been asked to be there, rather than being yanked in. He'd known full well what he was doing, and he enjoyed it.

He opened his eyes slightly, but he didn't look t her. He instead kept his vision focused on their hands. It was another long moment before he spoke. ]

I got enough. I li--he liked what he was doing. He--

[ Mid statement, something occurred to him. It was shocking enough that his gaze suddenly jumped to her face. It wasn't so much that he'd remembered something, but he realized what hadn't been there. Then his gazed dropped again. ]

He'd never been the...

[ He trailed off, shaking his head. There was actual regret in his voice, almost longing. He'd had such a brief time to experience being a werewolf without having to deal with having been the kanima first. ]

[It takes her a moment to realize what he means. To understand he's talking about the Kanima. It's been so long for her, she doesn't think about it anymore.

And it doesn't make sense.

This Jackson. Her Jackson is a much better person than that ruthless thing she met in the arena. There was nothing there to reach for, nothing she could save.

Unlike this version of him.

She squeezes his hand and shakes her head, shifting a little closer to him.]

He's a monster, Jackson. No matter which form he has. You're not. He doesn't have the humanity you do. He doesn't have the connections you do. [To her, and despite what they may think now, to the rest of the pack.]

He was better. At everything.

[ He spoke before he fully understood what he was saying. Or what she meant. He didn't see how awful the other version had been. He only knew how much clearer he saw the world. How much more focused he was, in everything. He was cold. Ruthless. Efficient. Not bogged down by so many conflicting emotions.

As far as he could tell, that other version had never once experienced a panic attack. Or clawing, desperate loneliness. Or the suffocating terror of not being as good as he could be. He approached it all with calm clarity. No, he wasn't as good as he could be. But he knew how to overcome what stood in his way, and he would destroy it by any means necessary. ]

No. Jackson. No, he wasn't.

[She answers him immediately, without blinking. And it scares her how fiercely he says it. How much he seems to believe that's true. Because there is absolutely nothing about the other Jackson that seemed better than this one.]

He was a terrible person, Jackson. He was violent. [And she doesn't want to bring up what he did to her, how determined he seemed to actually kill her. And she has no doubt he would.]

You, you can get better. He's gone. [Lost under that rage, that monster he's become.]

[ Suddenly, he jerks away from her touch. He turns his face away from her, his jaw set. He can't summon the words to describe how very wrong she was. His other self wasn't gone. He hadn't given in to rage. He'd learned to focus it with laser-like precision. He'd turned it cold and hard and wielded it as artfully as Kira with her sword.

Jackson was already a terrible person. Intentionally. Superficially. What difference would it be if it went deeper? A price he was willing to pay to be genuinely confident, not the facade he put up. He said nothing to her. How could he? There was nothing to be said because she wouldn't understand. ]

Jackson?

[Her voice is almost a plead. She steps closer to him even though he pulls away because she knows she needs to hold on to him now. She can't lose him, she can't let him get lost in what he remembers of his other self. If she does, he might be gone, too.

She takes a step forward almost immediately and lifts a hand to his shoulder. He may not want to look at her, but touching him almost always works.]

Jackson, look at me.

[ Some of the tension faded from him at her touch. He couldn't help that, as much as he wanted to. That anger and indignation was a welcome shield against everything else. But but warm hand on his shoulder made maintaining it so very difficult. It left him exposed to what he was trying to ignore. All of those feelings of inadequacy and weakness. He'd never be enough. He'd never be like that. Determination couldn't match that sheer amount of focus.

He opened his eyes but he he didn't look at her. His teeth ground together as he struggled to hold on to his shield. If he let go, he'd fall apart. If he spoke, he'd break. He just wanted to be alone. So he could focus. And train. And work to become what he always pretended to be. ]

[The fact that she can pretty much see the tension fading away is only an encouragement. She takes another step toward him and squeezes his shoulder gently. But she knows she's not quite getting to him as much as she wants to. She doesn't miss the fact that he's not looking at her.

So she positions herself toward his side, so he'd at least see her out of the corner of his eye.]

What can I do for you? Just tell.

[ His eyes closed for a moment again. He wanted to snap at her, to tell her that what she could do was to just go away. To stop touching him. Because it was all easier without her there, less complicated. He could be closed off and angry and believe that he truly didn't care about anything or anyone.

He let out a heavy breath and opened his eyes again. This time, he looked at her. Finally. There was a false sort of hardness in his expression. ]

Let me go back there.

[She doesn't expect that response. Mostly because it's so hard to imagine this Jackson enjoying hurting her the way the other had.

It worries her, though. That he thinks, even if momentarily that he wants something like that. So she shakes her head in response.]

You don't mean that, Jackson. You're so much better than he is.

[ But he wasn't thinking about how he'd hurt Lydia anymore. Or how willing he'd been to kill a guy he'd never even met. Trying to tear him apart in the middle of the jungle, only stopped by several gunshot wounds. He was blinded by just how strong he'd been. How clear everything had been. How free he'd been. ]

No. I'm not.

[ "Better" in his mind was tied to very specific things. Physical, measurable things that had little to do with morals or emotions. ]

Yes, you are.

[She steps closer, moving to stand in front of him as she reaches down and takes his hand in hers. She doesn't know what else to do to get to him.]

To me you are, Jackson. Why would you think otherwise?

[ He looks away, even as his fingers close over hers. ]

Because he--

[ His voice is tight, spoken through clenched teeth. The other one hadn't been afraid. Of anything. He was alone without being lonely. He thrived. He was confident without the need for praise. He didn't need any outward acknowledgement. He just knew he was better. ]

...because we was an alpha.

[She squeezes his hand and shakes her head, taking a step closer. her memories from her other self weren't as clear this time because she didn't actually spend time as her. But they were still there.]

He was alone. A packless Alpha. That makes him weak.

You are not alone.

[ His fingers tightened around hers. He didn't move away, but he didn't look at her either. She was wrong. The other version had a pack. And he was working to not need them for power. It was the only reason he needed them. But he had no way of explaining that distinction to her. ]

I...

[ He wanted to say that he WAS alone. Cause he always had been. But the simple fact that he she brought him back from being a homicidal lizard proved otherwise. So he just fell silent with a shake of his head. ]

[She knows he has a long way to go before he can accept the pack as backup the way she has. He has a long way before he can begin trusting them. And right now is not the time to push it.]

Don't think about him, Jackson. He isn't you.

Why don't we go for a walk? [To try and get him back in his own head. Away from the other one.]

[ But the alpha was him. Was everything Jackson wanted to be. Or at least what he had convinced himself he wanted to be. Confident without validation. Strong without needing to rely on anyone.

But still, he just gave Lydia a nod. If he sat here dwelling on it all, he'd never get anywhere. He'd never get closer to being what the alpha already was. He needed to push forward and improve. He still didn't look at her, but that had more to do with the bruise on her neck than anything. ]

[While she wasn't expecting for such an easy agreement, she's glad he accepts her offer. Being outside, beneath the stars and on the calmness of the deck should help.

So she just offers him a soft smile, then reaches for his hand and starts for the door. As long as he keeps letting her help with the little things like this, she knows that, no matter how long a process it may be, she'll be able to get him to graduate. Eventually.]

[ He wasn't thinking about graduation or anything close to that. As he followed her out of the room, as he walked with her, he was focused on pushing all of those mixed up emotions down as far as he could. He couldn't get back to being the alpha version of himself until he learned to distance himself from all of that. He tried to separate it all. To hold on to that drive and determination, while pushing aside the feelings of inadequacy and disappointment.

He wouldn't admit it, but just being there with her helped. A lot. Her presence at his side helped him feel less weak, less helpless. He didn't understand it, but it made him feel grounded. Less alone. He told himself it was because of the fresh air. ]

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[017. I reveal nothing, both played fate.]

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(Good wrap up point?)