semifreakingnormal | ( 012 ) Ω ( Video )

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[He's been back about an hour, just sitting in his room. It's not that he doesn't want to be here. He does. He needs to be here, to make things right again, and still all he wants is to rewind the clock, to go back to weeks ago, before their darkness spilled out into the world. Everything had looked bright. Okay. And now...

Now he understands why Stiles didn't want him to go back. Nothing will be like it was. Not until he saves Allison.

And he can't do that by letting people think he isn't here. He gets up, splashes water on his face, stares at himself in the mirror until he thinks his expression is normal. It's close enough. Drying off, he goes back to sit on the bed and picks up the communicator. When it clicks on, he smiles, and it's still Scott underneath, even if it's not quite as bright. He's older, though, only a year but it feels longer. His hair is shorter, he looks stronger. He's trying to hide the rest, and doing a decent job of it. But only decent.]

Hey, guys. I'm back.

[He waves his free hand. Semi-awkward Scott McCall is still under the new haircut! And is that a tattoo peeking out from under his left sleeve?]

So, did I miss anything good? I think...I was a troll, the last flood. How long ago was that?

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[Peter hesitates a little before heading up, still not sure if he's doing the right thing or will know what to say of something happens, if he should mention that Stiles had warned them or just act like everything's cool. It's still hard, to think of himself as someone who needs to be a leader or a support system or role model for someone else. He still just feels like a dumb kid.

But he forces a smile that's hopefully not too vaguely guilty to give him away when he spots Scott, and tries not to think too hard about everything.]

Hey.

Hey.

[Fortunately, Scott isn't digging. He waves his lacrosse stick at the door, and opens it for Peter.]

So, this isn't awkward, right? I'm just kinda tired of staring at my walls, you know?

Dude, no, why would it be awkward? [Pete steps inside - it's a forest, probably redwoods because the trees tower above them for what looks like miles - and hangs back a beat to make sure Scott's following.]

It sucks being stuck here, you know?

[He follows. He wasn't sure if it would be the Preserve or not, and right now, he doesn't really want to be here. Scott shrugs, and settles the lacrosse stick across his shoulders, looping both arms over its ends.]

Yeah, I guess. But at the same time, like - I don't want to be anywhere else, you know?

Believe me, I do.

[It's why he hasn't gone home. He's not risking losing this chance to fix everything.

And then... he's not sure if he's allowed to say anything else, so his hands get crammed in the pockets of his jacket and he tries to just... be. Let Scott talk if he wants to, and if not, they can just walk.]

[He wants to forget it happened, and he feels so guilty about that. He shouldn't want to forget a single moment of the life she led, even the bad parts. Even the end. And she wouldn't want him to dissolve around the hole that her death left. He's trying. He's trying so hard to do everything right, to push it away and carry on, because he doesn't know what to do if he falls apart.

He feels like he's falling apart.

Following a game path through the trees, Scott sniffs, scratches at his eye while actually wiping at it. He swallows hard, clears his throat, and glances at Peter.]

So, um. What did Stiles say, when I was gone?

[Chris kinda spilled those beans.]

[Peter's apparently good at being quiet in moments like this. It's easy to keep walking and remember what it's like, to feel like you've had a hole ripped in your chest, and that keeps him grounded in not saying much, just focusing on being there. God knows he hadn't wanted to talk when... stuff had happened.

The question doesn't quite catch him off guard, but the sniff and the everything else makes him suddenly kind of nervous, like holy shit, this is maybe heading into territory he's not sure how to deal with and he's going to be a total asshole if he screws this up.]

Uh, [His gaze shifts uncomfortably from Scott's face to the path, to a tree, back again. He's not sure what he's allowed to tell him, but decides to go for the truth.]

Not... Much. [Which is true. Stiles hadn't offered details, and Peter hadn't asked for them.]

He said we'd, you know. Need to keep an eye out for you. But I didn't ask.

I figured if you'd want to talk about it... [He trails off and shrugs slightly helplessly.]

[Scott nods, looking down at the trail below his feet.]

I, um.

[He stops walking, just slows and halts, and slides his hands into his pockets. he's had a few days to swallow it. But it doesn't help, and it was - almost easier at home, after they'd given their statements. After their 'it happened so fast.' He's not ready to talk about it. But he's more ill prepared to be around people who don't know.]

Allison - she was my girlfriend, when I was here last. She was - she was killed.

[Peter stops when he does, bracing himself, trying to look relaxed instead of tense and ready to bolt, and not really succeeding.

It really doesn't help.]

Scott- [He doesn't know what to do, or what to say. He remembers him talking about Allison, knows what it's like to have someone like that in your life, and he can't imagine how messed up he'd be if anything happened to Gwen, let alone what he'd want someone to say or do for him after it happened.

He bites his lip, tries to work his mind around saying "I'm sorry" or "what happened" or "oh my god", decides against all of them. There's nothing to say.

Instead, Peter sort of hesitantly lifts a hand, like he's planning on patting Scott on the shoulder or something, but chickens out, because he's not sure if he'd want it or not. He looks uncomfortable, but more because he's really upset and has no idea how to help.]

I'm really sorry.

[Scott nods quickly, keeps nodding. He knows there's nothing Peter can do to make it better. He knows there's really nothing to say. He didn't spend much time around Mr. Argent or Isaac, after, because...because it was too hard to sort out. Because they all loved her and because talking about it just made it hurt more.

He's trying to bury it, and he's not good at it.]

Yeah, I'm - me too.

[He swallows hard, looks away.] I just - I figure, you should know, and...

[And what, he's not sure. And get why Scott is acting off? Why he feels so miserable? He runs a hand over his face.] I'm sorry, man. [He mumbles it, trying to swallow past the tightness in his throat.]

Scott, you don't- [His hand jerks back up, and he hesitates again before gently patting him on the shoulder once or twice before finally just. Settling his hand there like he's not really sure what else to do with it.]

You don't have to apologize.

[And he wants to say it wasn't his fault, because he knows what it's like to feel that way, even if you weren't the one who pulled the trigger, but he doesn't know if that's what Scott needs to hear right now, or what he actually needs at all.

It still sort of feels like the right thing, though, so after a pause, he just. Says it.]

It's not your fault.

It feels like it is.

[He was going to be strong. He was going to hold it all back. But it's like reliving it again, and no matter how many times he thinks regression to the mean, it just won't come. Things won't be this bad forever, but they're this bad now.] I know it's not, but I - if I got there just a few seconds earlier--

[He realizes with a rush of shame that as he blinks, tears slip down his cheeks. He lifts a hand quickly, wiping his forearm across his face.]

All I could was hold her. I just - she died while I was-- [He looks away.]

[Oh shit. Oh shit, he's crying, and Peter really doesn't know what to do. He's not good at tears, not good at any of this, but man, he can't just not do anything.

Scott's his friend, and he's supposed to be responsible, a good person, someone people can look up to and rely on, and he can't do that if he bolts when stuff like this happens.]

Scott, [He squeezes his shoulder a little tighter, trying to get him to focus on him again to actually hear what he's saying.]

Man, look, I know... [His throat starts closing up and he swallows, tries to fight through it.] How hard this is, and I know I don't know what happened, but you didn't do it. You didn't. It's okay, you can fix this. It's going to be okay.

[It won't always be this bad. He's here. He'll be here as long as it takes. Scott nods jerkily, wiping at his eyes and feeling a bit like a child. Mostly he feels husked out. He can't feel this way forever. He won't feel this way forever.]

Yeah, [he manages thickly, and tells himself to push through it, that Allison would be so angry with him if she knew he was wasting his days crying.]

I know. It just - sucks.

[He manages a small, wet laugh. Understatement of the century.]

Yeah, [He repeats, because there's nothing else he can say. It sucks. Of course it sucks, and it's going to suck until it's fixed, which might take forever. But it starts to suck less when you start to forgive yourself for what happened, and he knows that's not as impossible as it seems at first.]

Yeah, it really does. But you're gonna be okay.

[Peter hesitates again, still not quite sure what to do here or how, so when he finally does make up his mind to pull him into a hug, the motions are still a little awkward, like it's been a really long time since he's done something like this for someone. And it has, but Scott's not running away or acting like he doesn't want someone around, and frankly looks like he's going to totally just crumble in on himself, so maybe he needs something a little more solid than just a hand on his shoulder.]

'm sorry.

[Scott wears his heart on his sleeve so often that it's so much harder when he's trying to keep everything contained. He doesn't really like crying on other people, but he doesn't have an innate reluctance to human comfort when it happens.

So when Peter does hug him, Scott doesn't notice that it's stiff or awkward. He just accepts it, eyes shutting tight, arms coming up to return the favor. And it is a favor, because this helps. This always helps.]

Thanks, man.

Hey, no problem. [He tries to force his voice to sound something like cheerful, or maybe just comforting, and tries to remember what he's supposed to do now. He is really, really out of practice, and winds up patting his back a little. Aunt May's done it to him before, it seems like the right thing to do. Hopefully?

It's probably a good thing he more or less has control over his powers, these days, otherwise your shirt would probably be in pieces. B'(]

It's okay.

Edited 2014-04-30 01:49 (UTC)

[It's cool, he could say the same. Webs and claws probably do not mix.

Scott stays where he is, for a bit, not out right sobbing. He doesn't want to have to. So he takes strength from Peter's presence, from his support, and he pulls himself back together. Because he has to, because there are still things to do.

Blinking hard, he wipes a hand over his face quickly when he pulls back, making sure it's mostly dry.]

I wish you could have met her.

[His voice wavers for a moment, but he manages a small smile. One day, Jack's going to graduate, and then Peter will meet her.]

You'd like her. And probably piss her off by dodging, like, every arrow.

[He leaves his hand on Scott's shoulder for a minute longer once his friend's pulled away, just to make sure he's really okay (or as okay as he's going to be, anyway) before finally dropping it back to his side.

Honestly, he's kind of really impressed by his friend's resolve. Scott already seems like he's worlds ahead of where Peter was at this point. He really, really hopes he never has to be there again.]

I'm like, 90% sure I exist just to piss people off, so I'm pretty sure you're right. [Also, dodging arrows sounds like a fun challenge?? peter stop] Once Jack graduates, I'll come visit.

[Scott can't exist in a world where there is no brightness. He can't exist without hope. He wouldn't exist. He lives to do what's best, even if he wouldn't say that himself. He struggles to do what's right for everyone, by everyone, because he cares easily and has a much too strong sense of responsibility.

It can't always be this bad. That's what Deaton told him, and that's the glimmer of hope that is his stepping stone. It got him here, on the Admiral's promise, because no matter what, he's saving Allison.]

You don't piss me off.

[He manages a smile, slightly wrung out but not wobbling.] Good. You're going to totally hate Beacon Hills, though. No skyscrapers.

Hey, I've managed not to go totally stir crazy here, how bad could it be? [It's something different, that's all he can ask.] And hey, I guess my weird spider DNA keeps out most supernatural stuff, so you don't even have to worry about me getting kidnapped by another werewolf, or... whatever else goes on where you're from.

[Fuck if he knows.

Also that's probably not entirely reassuring and there is a quick, guilty look on his face like he's not sure if he's allowed to joke about that.

Sorry Scott.]

[Scott smiles a little, but it's small and a little pained at the edges. Peter doesn't know everything, and he didn't mean it badly, he knows. It still makes his insides clench.]

At least I don't think we have to worry about the Oni any more.

[Look, he's good at that. And he's still... trying to make this whole friend thing work out. It's a work in progress.]

That's good, right? See, you got this.

Yeah. [It's good progress. Scott nods, pushes through.]

You could crash in my room, too. Isaac's been in the extra room, or I'd say you could sleep there.

[If Isaac sticks around. He has no idea.]

You know, I'm pretty sure the last time I had a sleepover, I was like, eleven. [He doesn't sound like he thinks it's a bad idea though. He'd had fun back then, and really, he's missed doing stuff like this.

And it occurs to him that he should probably look Harry up when he gets home, see what he's been up to. Not that he really expects he'll want to like, reconnect after seven years, but.]

Your mom won't mind?

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