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[Once he gets past the urge to just spew apologies, once he feels a little less like tearing his hair out, he gets on the network.]

You know, I don't remember if I ever said anything about it. But there's an animal clinic on board. [He holds up a set of keys, jingles them.] That's what those keys were, a while ago. I've got some experience working in one so, um. If anything happens, I've got stuff for splints and vaccines and worms and stuff. Since it'd be really easy for one to infect a whole bunch, you know?

[He pauses, because he remembers how people said apologies were unnecessary, that flood-selves weren't real, but like before, it just feels necessary, just to get it off his chest.]

And I'm sorry I was so...I'm just sorry.

[Private to Daneca]

You especially.

[Private to Jack]

So that's got to be, like, the worst thing to get paired off of, right? [WORST BEHIND THEM THOUGH right? right?]

[Private to Iris and Bruce, separately]

And thanks. For not letting me do something...really bad.

[Spam for Alana]

[He thinks Alana probably needs more than a straightforward apology, though he's not sure why. Something tells him she doesn't really have friends here, and while it's kind of weird trying to be a friend to someone who could be, like, a school therapist or counselor or something, he also thinks it'd be nice to know that someone's thinking of you.

Or something. He's seriously not over thinking it.

So eventually, Scott makes his way to her door, knocking. He knows there's a dog in there.]

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Hi.

[Scott returns the smile immediately, waving a little. His lacrosse stick is slung over his shoulder, and he turns to tap it against the door, unlocking the pub.]

C'mon in.

[He's surprised by the lacrosse stick at first, but looks suitably impressed when it opens. He's never had opportunity to see a warden actually use their item for anything, and he'd sort of been expecting a set of actual keys or an ID badge or something.]

That's how it works?

[He shrugs.] I guess so. I mean, it's been working so far.

Do you want soda, or something else?

[There's definitely the temptation to go for something stronger, but after a beat of hesitation when he enters the pub proper, he decides against it.]

Soda's fine. [Probably not a good idea to tempt that particular demon.]

[Scott fills two glasses with ice and soda, sliding one over to Jack and sitting down.]

Sooooo. [He lifts his shoulders a little helplessly. He's not sure what he wants, or how to go about this - but he thinks maybe they should just be friends, at first.]

D'you wanna talk about anything?

[It's a fair thing to want, and it's not like Jack's going to hold it against him. If he'd been assigned to someone else, it might have been a different story - he hasn't gotten along so well with some of the other wardens.

But after Jack accepts the soda and takes a seat, he doesn't beat around the bush or try to pretend like he's interested in small talk right now, because how much he can actually do that kind of depends on one thing.]

How much was written in the file?

Um, a lot. I haven't read all of it, yet. I figured, it'd probably be a good idea to get to know you outside of what it says.

...Do you want to read it?

Am I allowed to?

[Which really means yes, he does.

He lets out a breath, tries to let go of some of the tension.]

... There are some things that happened that I promised not to tell anyone. Some big things, about the island.

I don't see why not, I mean - it's your life. We can grab it, it's in my room.

[That gives him pause, and he sucks up soda for a moment.] I know it probably doesn't seem like it, what with....everyone knowing what I am, but - I can keep a secret.

[That gets a small chuckle out of him, and the mere fact that he's willing to show it to him is enough to ease the urgency slightly. Better late than never, right?

That's better than what a lot of people have offered.]

How long have you been a werewolf?

Edited 2014-03-02 06:17 (UTC)

I dunno, a few months? It was only a few weeks, before I came here. [None of the false bravado, this time: this is a Scott who doesn't really try to hide how little he knows.]

[It's still weird, to think that that's something that can actually happen to people. Then again, most of what's happened on this ship thus far has really pushed the boundaries on what he'd believed to be possible before coming here, and it's still sort of difficult to get his head wrapped around all of it, but. It's either that, or go crazy, right?

He wonders briefly if it's been hard to keep that kind of thing a secret, but realizes it's sort of a stupid thing to wonder. Of course it was.]

So what did you want to know?

Um - I don't know. [It's a slightly sheepish confession, but he shrugs.] Just...what kind of guy you're like, I guess. I mean, the file can probably tell me that, but I just wanted some more time outside of it, I guess.

...And you can tell me to shut up, but I totally want to know what promised not to tell anyone. That must make me kind of a dick.

What kind of guy I'm like. [He honestly has no idea how to answer that. Psychoanalysis has never been something he's put much stock in, and he's avoided it for himself for about a million reasons. It seems easier to go with the second thing, even if it's still weird as hell to talk about this with someone who's basically a stranger.

You'd think he'd be used to this sort of thing by now.]

Well, you already know about the plane crash. And the Island.

[The Jack Shephard he'd talked to hadn't had any reason to lie about how many survivors there were, or where they'd landed or how long they'd been there. It's part of why he's been more or less willing to talk to Scott when he's been so stubborn when dealing with other people.]

Three years ago, a few months after the plane went down, I was able to help a few others get out, and I promised someone we wouldn't tell the world anything about where we'd been. So we lied.

The rest of it probably sounds pretty crazy. [As in, the why of why they had to keep it a secret. B(]

Dude, I'm a werewolf.

[He has to smile at Jack, shrugging his shoulders.] Everything sounds pretty crazy, these days.

Why'd you promise?

To keep the people we left behind safe.

[For all the good that it did.]

Why did you leave them behind?

It's complicated.

[And for a second, he's tempted to leave it at that, but he actually wants to talk about it.]

There was... [Apparently just wanting to talk about it isn't quite good enough, because he still has to take another moment to think about how best to explain this.] This science team, who tried to tell us they were there to get us off the island. It turned out they were hired by a guy who basically wanted to get this one guy off the island and really didn't care if we lived or died. We tried evacuating some people off the beach to the ship they came in on, but some of the mercenaries detonated a bomb and blew the whole thing up. A lot of people who survived the crash died. I was on a helicopter with a few others when it happened. After it happened, we realized the island was gone, and we had to make an emergency landing in the water.

[Scott isn't dumb. It's a sore point for him, some times, because it would be so easy to think he is. Because he's not a brain, either. But this is more than skimming got him, and he wrinkles his brow, trying to sort it out and failing.]

Wait, gone? Like just - poof, gone?

Yeah. Someone moved it.

[And how is that even possible, islands don't move, etc. etc.]

Believe me, I know it sounds crazy. But it happened.

How? Why?

[...]

How?

I don't... really know. There's a lot of stuff we don't really understand.

Okay, well. [He is going to need to do more than skim later.] Maybe we can figure it out? I mean, getting the island will probably help a lot of things, right?

Probably.

[If that's even possible. And he's not exactly optimistic about that, if we're going off his less than optimistic sounding response.]

[Super not optimistic, okay. Scott twirls his cup around for a moment before straightening up.]

So do you like, have any questions for me?

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