semifreakingnormal | ( 024 ) Ω ( SPAM FOR CLEMENTINE )

[He is terrified of this assignment.

Okay, maybe not terrified - he's not afraid of Clementine, really. It's not like this is the one he has memories of. The Clementine he knows was kind of cool when he was on the verge of freaking out about being a girl. But he has those memories, and they're kind of hard to forget. He's never bitten anyone before. He's never made a beta before, and that thought does kind of terrify him. How could he put anyone else through what he went through?

...Admittedly, it's not like he'd try to give anyone creepy sleepwalking nightmares and try to force them to kill someone with him. He's pretty sure he's better than Peter in that light. But Derek had made his share of mistakes, too, and - mostly, Scott just never wants to think about what the other him had done to other her on the other Barge.

And now they're paired. He'd flipped through her file, briefly, but when he caught sight of her gruesome death, he closed it pretty firmly and headed for her cabin instead.

He remembers, from the other ship, but along the way he catches her scent, too. It's that he winds up following, opening himself up to all the things he can smell for the first time since they got back.

At her door, he hesitates, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Finally he knocks, running a hand through recently cut hair. He's about to knock again when he remembers that she was one of the ones who had been out of commission for a while, and that jars him. Had anyone even checked on her? Scott tries the knob, easing the door open to let himself in.]

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[He tries to imagine it: an eternity of this, of her trying to kill him, of him stopping her. Of him not stopping her. Of him promising her not to hurt her, swearing that he'll never become like the other Scott. He's not a monster. He's a werewolf. He doesn't have to be a monster.

He imagines asking the Admiral for another inmate. Telling him he can't do this. It won't work. There's no way.

He knows immediately which one is more unbearable.]

I'll keep telling you.

[Because she doesn't deserve to be let down, tossed around. She deserves better than him, but he's who she's got.]

I was taught that werewolves weren't real, and people don't come back from the dead. [He shrugs helplessly.] I was taught wrong.

I'm not going to give up on you.

[She laughs at him. She laughs in his face. He's a fool, and he deserves what's coming to him. That's what she'll tell herself, anyway. That she isn't moved. She was trained to be tougher than this. She was supposed to be stronger.]

[But even that first time in the cell she swayed to the beat of her own heart, the pain of a killing. The pull of the moon against the tide of her blood.]

[His blood still tacky, drying on her hands.]

[So she laughs, but it fades away quickly in the acoustics of the room, and then she just feels alone. She wants to ask if it's healing, already, but instead she just lets silence be, weighing on her heavy and painful.]

[It feels like her own gut that's bleeding out.]

[His chest, his whole torso hurts, and he wonders if he's healing, too. For a moment, just a second, he's scared he's not. But it's not a physical distress that throbs through his ribs. It's just a bone-wearying sadness. It's like loss. He knows what that feels like too well, now, to recognize it - even if it doesn't make sense.

Why did Jack have to go? He wonders. Jack never laughed at him for his faith. Jack didn't warn him away. Jack taught him a lot, probably more than Scott taught him in return, and maybe that was the problem to begin with. He swallows hard.]

I'm not gonna give up on you.

[It's quiet, just this side of too soft. Then he lets out a breath, and shakes his head, voice strengthening.]

I'm not putting you in zero, but you're staying here for the next few days. I'll bring you meals. But otherwise...[He shrugs, tries a feeble smile.] You're grounded.

[She cocks her head. He's not putting her in Zero. This . . . baffles her. She doesn't know what to do with it. So she looks down into her lap with an expression that might be confused with atonement. Really, it's just bullheadedness.]

All right.

And then what?

[What's your plan, she wants to demand of him; what are you going to do for the next forever, while I'm your responsibility? She doesn't go so far. Just sits on her own frustration. She feels untethered, drifting.]

[Scott shrugs. He's overwhelmed by exhaustion all of a sudden, and he just wants to sit down. But he doesn't want to crowd her, and making himself even a little comfortable in her room just feels....wrong. She needs some place to feel at least a little safe, and she's going to be stuck here a while.]

I'll get the Admiral to fix your bed. Then...I don't know.

I'd ask what you wanna do, but we kind of already covered that.

Yeah. We already did.

[She keeps staring at the floor, her eyes hollow and exhausted. Maybe if she looked at him she'd see something she'd recognize. But she won't. He isn't human. She has to keep believing that.]

I'm glad you're not afraid of me, Scott.

[She sounds a hundred years away from this room when she says it. Maybe she means it, maybe she doesn't. Even she would be hard-pressed to say.]

[He shifts his weight forward without taking a step, like he - he wants to comfort her. She just stabbed him, but he wants to make her feel - whole, or full, or just alive.

But he can't do any of that now. He's not sure he'll ever be able to.

So he shifts back again, turning to find the coil. For a second, he turns it in his hands, staring at his blood. His chest has already healed, he can feel that. It's so weird, staring at a weapon with his DNA on it, knowing the wound that produced it - it's dumb and cyclical and he shakes the thought free, turning to look at her instead.]

Please don't be scared of me.

[She stiffens, leans back away from him when he shifts his weight. He says don't be scared, but she is, she is, she loves him and hates him and is scared of him all at once. This isn't fair. She never used to think things like this isn't fair and she thinks maybe it's Peter's fault that she's thinking it now, but goddamnit, she shouldn't have to worry about him having bureaucratic power over her along with his physical strength, his inherent evil. She shouldn't be questioning that evil, either.]

[She shouldn't be distracted by fear. She loathes herself acidly in this moment, her heart feels like it simmering, her eyes ache from watching him too hard. She feels a strong animal instinct to crawl away and hide, but there's nowhere to go.]

I'm not scared of you, [she lies bitterly through clenched teeth, hair in her face, liquor on her breath. She is so scared of him.]

[Scott hears the truth in her heart beat. He smells the lie in the air. So he sags without physically drooping: his head lowers, his shoulders lose some of their strength. He holds too much of the world on them, and right now, knowing that he frightens the one person he's here to help, the weight is too much.

He nods, but it's in acknowledgement of her real answer. They can both pretend. He'll do a better job of it later.]

Okay.

[He can't bring himself to thank her for the lie, though. Turning the screw once more in his hand, he turns to go.]

( 024 ) Ω ( SPAM FOR CLEMENTINE )

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