allison argent doesn't remember. (memory) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2014-08-03 00:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | allison argent (memory!au), scott mccall (memory!au) |
who Memory!Scott McCall and Allison Argent
what Scott takes Allison to get some food, and they take a tiny detour.
when Backdated to the day Scott arrived - 7/25
where Walking through town, the library, and ending up at the taco stand.
status Complete!
Hawaii was really very beautiful and shockingly peaceful, and there was definitely something to be said about that considering all of the chaos that came with so many people being thrust into a melting pot together. It’d been raining a lot lately, due to some tropical storm or other, but that wasn’t a problem. The rain was rather nice, really – like purifying the earth so that it could start fresh and clean. Of course, Allison Argent wasn’t so keen to believe that starting fresh was all it was cracked up to be.
She’d had to step outside because she could feel the panic sweeping over her again. She’d been fine for a moment, sitting and looking over her notes in the Potter household, but then everything had snapped. That’s the way it worked now – it didn’t matter where she was or what she was doing, every so often, everything would sort of pause. Physically, she’d pause with it, the panic showing in her face as she frantically tried to coax some sense of understanding into her brain. It was in these moments that she felt completely lost. Sometimes, she’d forget where she was or who she was with. Others, she’d forget herself entirely, suddenly becoming just a strange being in a world that she didn’t remember, regardless of the fact that she’d just seen it moments before. Back home, those more dramatic moments didn’t happen nearly as often, and didn’t last as long when they did, but here, with all of the overwhelming information, they’d been happening more and more. Which, naturally, made her more and more on edge, which prompted them to come more frequently.
Allison knew that she was lucky to be alive. Even though she had to start every day by reading a page at her bedside table that outlined who she was and how she fit into the world just to kickstart her memory of herself, the fact that she was alive to do those things was a gift. And truly, she tried not to be ungrateful for it. Sometimes, though, it was really hard not to hate the fact that she spent most of her life completely in the dark, and the rest of it simply not knowing that she was in the dark.
When she’d first come back, there had been a period of time where she’d looked at pictures and videos to try to remember things, but she’d very quickly found out that doing so only made everything so much worse in her mind. She’d see herself in film or on screen and not remember being there, and it’d set her off. She’d refused to look at those things since, and had even made a note of it on all of her notebooks and flashcards in case she forgot. Being here, where there were so many of her with her own face, was setting off her frantic state as well, but she was trying to cope.
The sky was calm now, so she’d escaped the house out onto the lawn, where she’d spread out her flashcards and all of the notes she’d taken so far and was quizzing herself in her head over the information there, hoping that this time it might actually stick but not terribly convinced that it would. When she’d agreed to meet Scott, her bit of panic had risen again, her nerves over being near him making her very uncomfortable. She didn’t remember him, but he looked at her with such an overwhelming face. They all did, all of the ones in that group. That group that had apparently been her friends. It was too much, but she couldn’t say no.
And in the time since agreeing to go eat with him and him actually showing, she’d forgotten that he was coming, even though she’d made a note about it. So, not entirely expecting him, she sat cross-legged still in the grass, wearing shorts and a top she’d borrowed from the other Allison, a sweater around her waist, flashcards spread out before her and a notebook in her lap, her lips moving as she repeated the information on them silently to herself.
Scott McCall had been feeling like he was dreaming ever since he caught a whiff of Allison’s familiar scent in the hallway at school. At first he had brushed it aside – there were a few girls at school who wore the same perfume she had, so the rush of Allison was one he was familiar with – but those feelings had intensified when he caught the underlying notes that made her uniquely her. It was something he never would have come across again, and the realization had made him cling to his locker as the world spun around him.
Allison was alive. That fact alone outweighed the reality that she didn’t know him. It hurt more than he cared to admit, but for the first time in six months he had felt the black cloud of grief and guilt start to lift from his shoulders. Questions of if he had done the right thing my breaking up with Allison had started after the initial shock of her, his first love, dying in his arms started to fade away, replaced by the what ifs. What if he had been faster? He could have saved her or been there to prevent the Oni from even being near her. If he hadn’t had been distracted by Kira – who was great in her own mind – and honest with Isaac, would he have been able to repair things with Allison? He wanted Isaac to be happy, always, but what if things had gone different…?
Being transported here hadn’t helped him any. It was still a lot to wrap his mind around, but hearing that he would continue helping with and being around her as the group worked with her to restore her memories was reassuring. Yes, things were awful that she didn’t have the bits that made her the Allison that they knew, but she was here. It was overwhelming to watch her when he thought she wasn’t looking, remembering enough of the things for the both of them, and he knew he was terrible at guarding his face when she turned around. He wanted to be there and reassure her that he didn’t mean to cause her any extra stress, but he couldn’t get himself to walk away and give her the space she needed and desired. He was afraid that if he closed his eyes or was away for too long she’d vanish again.
It hadn’t taken him long to follow her scent to a large house on the corner of the street, and he took a moment to watch her going over some paper in her lap. That scene was a new, familiar one to him. Her notebook had been her constant companion those past few days at home, a new extension of herself. He had wondered if he was somewhere in its pages, something that crossed his mind as he watched her lips move over what she was reading. She smelled slightly off – a byproduct of wearing another Allison’s clothing and the work they had done on her to bring her back – and almost too peaceful to bother.
Realizing, though, that he was starting to turn into a stalker, he cleared his throat and made his way across the lawn, purposefully making his tread a little heavier so he wouldn’t startle her. He tried to make his face blank save for the friendly grin, crossing his fingers behind his back that it wouldn’t take her long to remember him.
“Hey, Allison,” he called out, his knees popping as he dropped to a crouch a safe distance away where she wouldn’t feel threatened by him looming over her as he tried to see if she was okay. “Hopefully you’re still a little hungry.” His grin faltered slightly as he heard the faint strain in his voice, but he tried to make it as reassuring and low-pressure as he could.
Normally, Allison would’ve been extremely aware of the fact that she was being watched. Her attentiveness and focus had been two of her greatest qualities when she was alive, both carefully honed by her archery training for years and then even more so by her Argent training more recently. More than that, she’d known Scott’s footsteps (and Isaac’s, and Lydia’s, and Stiles’). She hadn’t needed fancy supernatural hearing to be able to do it, either. Now, though, everything alternated between being a confused mess and being utter silence in her mind, each as terrifying as the other. It made her less alert, and her eyes a little wilder. It made it easier to startle her and she was almost always unsettled.
All of that said, it was really well thought of Scott to be loud as he approached, though not overly so. It gave her enough time to break out of her thoughts and acknowledge that he was there rather than being startled suddenly by his presence.
When she looked up at him, her expression was utterly devoid of recognition. It was a tiny bit wary, if only because this was a stranger who knew her name. Then her brow furrowed a little as she fought through the Nothing, her eyes dropping to her lap to find where she’d made the note. “Scott McCall,” she said questioningly, looking back up at him. Then she nodded more definitively. “You’re Scott. And we’re supposed to go and eat some tacos.”
Scott bit the inside of his cheek as Allison looked up at him, holding his breath as he waited to see what expression would cross her face. It hadn’t been too long since they had started talking over the network, but he knew that it didn’t take long for her to let go of something. Making memories stick was like trying to catch smoke. He didn’t blame anyone other than himself for the situation she was currently in and rationally knew the chances that she would remember what they were going to do were slim to none, but he was Scott McCall, eternal optimist.
He felt a deep tearing in his gut when she looked up at him, face blank. There wasn’t the sparkle there that used to be in her eyes when she looked at him, and her lips weren’t quirked up in a teasing smile about the traces of saltwater that dusted his clothes. He could have been a stranger on the street - a thought that jarred him more than his sudden dip in the ocean. He reminded himself once more that she was alive and in time she’d know who he was without consulting her flashcards, but that time wasn’t now.
“I’m Scott,” he confirmed, doing his best to keep his voice light and encouraging. Not wanting to be left out in the affirmations, his stomach let out a loud growl. He patted it sheepishly and shrugged. “And my stomach would really like it if we got some food. Are tacos still okay? Yo-I’m pretty partial to mexican food.”
Allison had no concept of what the people around her truly felt when she looked at them with such a blank expression, but she knew that it broke her heart anyway. It made her feel so guilty, even though she knew that she couldn’t help her situation. The way she shied away from photographs or any other sorts of proof that had been shown her over the last week had only made her feel even guiltier, because she knew it must make her seem as though she didn’t want to remember. The fact was, however, that they weren’t the only holes in her memory. It wasn’t as though only the last few years were gone. Everything was gone, and it was coming back in pieces. Some things would stick more than others, but most of it was fragile and easily shaken. ‘Progress,’ quite frankly, was being able to recall things more and more quickly. The notes helped that.
At the end of it all, though, it was always a toss up whether or not she’d remember, and even more of one as to how quickly it would take her to catch on. With all of the extra stimuli in this new place with its assortment of crazy things, her response time was even worse. However, she managed to recall her plans with Scott quickly enough, and that was encouraging.
“Tacos are fine,” she said, smiling a bit (albeit nervously) at the sound his stomach made. She picked up her notecards carefully, keeping them in a sort of inexplicable order that made sense to her, and bound them with a rubber band, putting both them and her notebook into her bag before finally standing. “I’m ready,” she said, then looked at him curiously. “Are you uncomfortable? You look a bit sandy.”
Scott flashed Allison a thumbs up before bracing his arms and his knees and drawing himself upright again, relieved that she was still okay with hanging out with a total stranger. He glanced down at himself at her question, noting the sand that he saw clinging to his clothes and the uncomfortable rasp of granules in places he wouldn’t admit to aloud, and shrugged. “I’m perfect,” he assured her, quickly dropping the hand he had automatically extended towards her to help her up and patting a few grains loose in demonstration. Honestly, he could be in his birthday suit in Antarctica without a stitch of clothes in sight and if Allison needed him he’d go straight away, frostbite be damned.
“I’ve gotten confirmation from a lot of m-people,” he said, choosing to go with the general instead of reminding her that there were multiples of themselves running around at the last second, “that this place was the place to eat. The truck smelled really good when I passed it, but we can go somewhere else if it isn’t to your liking.” He internally groaned at himself as he heard himself babbling, but his mouth refused to be quiet. It was determined to make up for those six months he hadn’t spent talking to her, telling her everything from mundane quips about the weather to what they were going to do to save the day. Shut up, McCall, he scolded himself, glancing back over at her and jerking his head towards the street. “Are you ready?”
Allison had been so uncomfortable in her sandy clothes. Of course, with a more level head, she knew that she’d really be uncomfortable and overwhelmed in general, but that focusing on the sand on her clothes had been a way to filter her thoughts onto something tangible rather than letting them run as wildly as they still did. She was a little amazed that he wasn’t bothered by it, but she remembered that he was a werewolf and maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal. “Okay,” she said, nodding, unaware that the extended hand had been for her. Sometimes, those sort of social graces were lost as well, which led to a lot of alarmed responses when people pulled chairs for her or touched her back trying to pass by. She was still just trying to sort through existing.
“I think one of them took me there when I first got here,” she said, nodding. She couldn’t clearly remember who, but her heartbeat quickened a little because she had a flash of Scott’s face sitting across from her there. She paused briefly, collecting herself, and realized (and recalled) that there were multiple Scotts. “It was one of the other versions of you,” she said aloud, for her own sake even more than for his, to make it real. “It was very good, though,” she added. She pulled her bag over her shoulder and nodded. “I’m not sure how to get there, so I hope you remember.”
For the thousandth time Scott's respect for Mr. Argent flashed through his mind. He admired the man for having enough strength to help him with the supernatural emergencies in Beacon Hills while reteaching everything to a daughter recently brought back from the dead every night when he came home. Scott felt like breaking each time a little gesture was lost on Allison, reminding him at the cost of bringing her back, but like Mr. Argent he knew that it was all worth it. After all, the pain he felt for the lost memories was nothing compared to the pain he felt over the loss of then young woman herself.
He was briefly jealous that another Scott got to remain in Allison's fragile memory, but he made himself smile. "Yeah?" he encouraged, proud that something had managed to stick. "They say great minds think alike. Yeah, I think I can find our way back." He stuffed his hands in his stiff pockets, glancing this way and that at the end of the driveway as he got his bearings. He didn't want to admit that he didn't exactly know where they were going, but he could smell the salt from the ocean down to his left. He lightly touched Allison's arm before heading that way, unconsciously steering her towards their destination. "The place you're staying in looks really nice. Apparently my mom's here somewhere and one of the other me's - the one that looks like Jessica Alba, a really hot actress - is going to take me over to her house later."
It was ingrained in Allison’s core to not want to be a burden on anyone. She’d fought her way into self-sufficiency, and she had a perfectionist mindset that had often called her mother’s no-nonsense voice to her in the past. Now, none of that had changed, she was just consistently put into a position where she couldn’t live up to her own high expectations of herself. The only thing worse than knowing that she was missing things was not knowing and realizing it later. She felt lucky that people still put up with her, even if she couldn’t always remember who each of them was at any given moment. Mostly, though, her father was her rock. And she needed him here so badly.
“Yes,” she said, nodding. It was honestly less that she remembered the other Scott and more that she knew that the two Scotts were the same. Still, it showed a bit of deductive reasoning, which could be very difficult for her at times. She’d take it. She let herself be guided, moving in the direction he indicated. “It is. It’s bigger inside. The people who own it are magicians, I think. Something like that,” she said. “Oh, that’s nice. I’m glad your mom is here.”
“James and Lily,” Scott agreed, doing his best not to totally geek out that Allison and spent the night in Harry Potter’s parents’ house. He had spent many times in the hospital waiting room with one of those books, curled up and stuck in a world of witches and wizards as he waited for his mom’s shift to finish. “One of the other Scotts told me that they were here. They’re pretty incredibly gifted from what I’ve heard. Was it nice inside?”
He nodded along with what she was saying, grateful that his mom was here in some capacity. Melissa McCall was one of the strongest people he knew, and if she was around then he knew that he could get through whatever life would throw at him. She was supportive and direct with him, often encouraging him to go that one step further to make it out of the other end. Melissa had been there through his darkest days after Allison had died, and all she had to do was be there for him to soldier on to help protect the others when he just wanted to find a way to turn back the clock.
He was quiet for a bit, toes scuffing the pavement as they turned on to a busier road. He kept his eyes trained ahead so she didn’t have to keep looking at him, but he could still watch her out of the corner of his eye. He had done this often back at school - watching her as if she might disappear if she caught him looking her way - and that feeling had only intensified over the past few hours. He could kick himself for turning into Derek Hale with the stalking, but he was already guilty of doing that when Liam first turned. He stopped when he caught a movement off to the side, drawing up as the ocean came into view. A brightly colored parachute streamed up in the air and he could hear a couple whooping in delight as the boat below them towed them along the shore.
“I wouldn’t mind doing that one day,” he told her, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as the boat disappeared around a bend in the coastline. “It tends to feel like I’m flying if I run really fast, but I’ve never been up in the air like that before.”
“Right. That’s them. They have a baby, too,” she agreed, though it was really more assumption than it was recollection. She had trouble remembering much of the house she was staying in because she spent a lot of her time on edge. She was fighting to understand her situation, and then she was faced with the Allisons living in the house as well. It was all so, so much. “Surprisingly big for the amount of people there,” she said, but nodded. “It’s nice.”
Allison had known base knowledge of Melissa McCall at this point, having not actually met her since her arrival here. She’d seen her once in the week before being sent to Hawaii, but it hadn’t been something that resonated, and the note that had her information on it was in shreds in the ocean.
Allison didn’t mind the quiet as they walked. She’d grown very fond of quiet, actually. It let her mind focus on her thoughts, and those were precious things to her now. When she could have a coherent stream of them without becoming unsettled or anxious, she considered it a victory. She crossed her arms over her chest tightly, her eyes looking around at the sights she didn’t even really hope to remember all that much.
“It looks pretty overwhelming,” she said, but smiled a bit. “Very, very high and fast.”
“Overwhelming, but worth it,” Scott echoed, his thumb absently rubbing the black bands around his arm. It was true what the Samoans called it; the tattoo was still like an open wound, a permanent reminder of what they once had and lost. Overwhelming was the best word - pretty much the only word his shocked brain could come up with to describe what he was feeling. The black bands represented the time he had with her while they were together, and the new arrow in the gap on the underside of his arm was a reminder of what he had lost when she died. Derek had rolled his eyes when he took the blowtorch to his arm for the second time, but he had needed something to remind him that she would never truly leave.
He cleared his throat and teared his eyes off of the empty water in front of him, pushing back the ghosts of the past few months. Kate Argent’s arrival and subsequent attempted destruction of nearly all the supernatural creatures was behind him; the only thing he had to fear here, really, was being called out to thunderdome another version of himself and Allison deciding that it wasn’t worth getting to know him.
“I know I said I’m hungry,” Scott said, an idea coming to him, “but are you up for a detour before we eat? I thought I saw a place you might enjoy going to on my way over.”
Allison knew that this was an entirely different interaction for each of them. She knew that Scott had all of his memories still in tact, and could remember the last times they’d spent time alone. She knew he had all sorts of thoughts and emotions connected to those memories that she couldn’t even touch at the moment, perhaps ever. Meanwhile, this was as novel as any first encounter with someone would’ve been, but moreso given all of the extra circumstances. She was discovering things about him slowly, a far cry from all of the information he already knew about her. It was a very disconcerting lack of balance, but she tried not to think of it. It was easier if she could just focus on the present.
“Oh,” she said, a little surprised at his words. She nodded. “Okay. That’s fine.” Briefly, she considered pulling out her notebook to make note of the path taken, but decided that might be a little awkward. “Where are we going?”
“It’s nothing really big,” Scott prepped her, taking off down the sidewalk, “and most people would think I was pretty lame for showing you where the library was.”
Scott rubbed the back of his head and waved towards her bag with his free hand as they made their way away from the beach towards the center of town, indicating that if she wanted to she could pull out her notebook. It had been in her hands since the moment she stepped back into school, so he was used to her scribbling away. If it helped her regain some of her memory or retain the ones she was making then he was all for it.
“Trust me, I am completely okay with ‘not big,’” she responded. She’d had so much big in her life over the last months that she was perfectly content with the more normal, run-of-the-mill sort of things. “A library sounds nice.”
She looked at him curiously when he gestured, not at first understanding what he was implying with it. After a moment, she realized what he meant, but she didn’t draw it out. “It’s okay,” she said, diverting her gaze a bit. “I can probably find the library on a map if I need to anyway. Do you like libraries back home?”
Scott laughed at her comment and shook his head. “I can’t say that I went out of my way to go to them,” he told her, stopping wait for a light to change, “but I ended up in the one at school more times than I can count.” He waited for a second, making to sure she was still there, before continuing as they crossed the street. “That was one place at Beacon Hills High where they put detention. W-I spent a lot of time there a few years ago.”
Allison looked at him curiously as he laughed at her, smiling. Her head tilted a little when he mentioned not having spent a lot of time in the library willingly, finding it interesting that he’d choose to take her to one. She followed him across the street, and they made it safely to the other side. “Are you a troublemaker, Scott McCall?”
“I guess you can say trouble has a way of finding me,” Scott hedged, his lips twisting up slightly in an attempt to grin. It wasn’t that he actively went seeking out everything that had happened, but he had been in the position more often than not in the last few years where he was smack dab in the middle of the action. He hadn’t minded; he wanted to do all that he could to save his friends from the bad things that were drawn to Beacon Hills. The fact that he couldn’t save all of them still ate at him, and hearing Allison ask these questions dredged up some of those guilty feelings.
He stopped in front of the library, balancing on the balls of his feet, and turned to her. “Libraries are normally good places to escape from everything,” he explained, “and they won’t ask questions when you want to look up something.”
“I think it may have a way of finding me as well. It seems that way, anyway,” Allison responded, and there was a little note of questioning in her voice, but that was always there these days. She had to make guesses about herself so often that the questioning lilt had all but made itself at home. She looked up at him as they stopped, turning to look at the library a moment before returning her gaze to his. “That’s really lovely, actually,” she said. “There’s something very peaceful about hearing that there won’t be questions asked. It’s less pressure when there isn’t always an easy answer.”
Scott nodded, turning away from the library so he was facing Allison. “I know you don’t remember me,” he prefaced, taking a deep breath before taking the plunge, “and I don’t care how many times I have to say what I’m about to say. You can always reach out to me for questions, and I’ll do my best not to make you feel pressured or frustrated for asking them. I just want to see you be comfortable in your own skin - no matter what that is now.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her and spooking her, and there wasn’t a trace of bitterness on his face as he smiled. He simply wanted Allison with them back in whatever capacity he could have her in.
Allison didn’t know where the conversation was going after that first line, and it made her just a little anxious because they all seemed to end in a way that was fantastically overwhelming to her. But she didn’t say or do anything, just listened and let him speak. When he did finally fall silent, his hands in his pockets, she was quiet a moment as well. “Thank you for saying that,” she said. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you – any of you. I just—I think that trying so hard to remember what came before is making it even more confusing in my brain. It’s like overloading myself. I have to work out something to keep that from happening, but that’s hard too when I can hardly remember what I was doing an hour ago most of the time.” She spoke with frustration in her voice, and finally sighed. “Can I ask you something? I know you just said I could, but it’s… a difficult question.”
Scott had gone through many things and had seen some terrible sights over the past few years, and even after that he couldn't stop the jolt of fear that went through him as she asked permission to ask him a difficult question. There were a million or two questions she could ask, and he didn't know what she now classified as not easy - it could range from remembering what had happened earlier to her questioning something she knew of the first portion of her life. Nevertheless, Scott was good on his promises. If he said he meant something, he'd do his best to meet those expectations.
He lifted his shoulder in a jerky shrug and gave her a sheepish smile. "Well, I'd be a hypocrite if I said no," he said, peering closely at her as he waited.
Allison didn’t know enough of their relationship to know what was considered a tense question and what wasn’t. To her, everything was overwhelming, and her questions seemed like they were too much. But she wanted to ask him now, even if she wouldn’t remember his answer unless she wrote it down. “If I never remember anything that happened before or anything that happens from here on, will it still be worth it? Will you be alright with that? Will it still be better than me being gone?” She paused, chewing on the inside of her mouth a moment. “I know what the natural answer is, but I’m looking for a real one. It can be a selfish one.”
"You weren't kidding when you said it was a difficult one," Scott said, blowing out the breath he had been holding in a whoosh. He rubbed at the back of his head and nodded towards the street, taking off back towards the path they had been taking. He needed time to think of what to say. Scott McCall was not a selfish person and wouldn't answer what he was really thinking right now even if his life depended on it because he didn't want to give her an answer that may or may not stick with her and may or may not cause her any pressure to live up to if by any chance she managed to remember this moment. However, he couldn't lie to her. That was against his nature as well.
The truth was he wasn't sure if he would be okay with if she forgot everything permanently. He could say until he was blue in the face that she was alive overruled everything, but it was painful to see his first love look at him like he was no different than a stranger in the street. He had countless questions that he wanted to ask, but he knew the chance of her being able to answer them were slim to none. However, there were more options here than he had thought, and there was a possibility that she might one day, with help, be able to recall things about their past life.
"Of course it will be worth it," he finally settled on. He spread his hands, gesturing as he talked like he often did when there was a lot on his mind. "You were - are - an important part in my life, and I didn't know you once before and got to enjoy getting to know you then. You being here without a memory of me isn't what I would have chosen, but you're still Allison Argent and you're alive and healthy. It sounds like a Lifetime movie, honestly, but I'd find a way to be okay with it."
“I did warn you ahead of time,” Allison said, and she laughed a little nervously, wondering if she should’ve asked it at all. But the fact of the matter was that she really needed to know. She needed to know whether or not these people, these sweet, but pained people who so wanted her to remember them, would still be okay if she never did. She needed to know if they would give up on her, or if they’d think perhaps that it might’ve been better if she’d just stayed gone. At least she’d have died with their memories, after all, and they wouldn’t have these new, painful ones on top of it. If that were the case, it would be alright. It would hurt, but she would understand.
And, to be perfectly honest, it would be easy to forget the hurt she felt.
She crossed her arms a little more tightly, feeling even more vulnerable now that she was waiting for his answer. When he did speak, she listened curiously, her heart racing just a little. She was quiet a moment when he finished, considering his words. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get those memories back,” she said honestly. “Not all of them, anyway. I don’t know what I’ll have in the future, either. I know that I’ve got to find a plan that isn’t so overwhelming, but I need time to figure out what that can be. There’s so much here to wrap my mind around already, and I still have so, so far to go just to remember who I am.” She looked up at him again. “Are you okay with letting me get to know you all over again? Even if it means doing so without those memories, should they never come back?”
"I think what would hurt the most is if you didn't want to get to know me," Scott answered, meeting her gaze. He had gotten to know her once before and it had been a wonderful, life changing experience. This time around would be life changing as well, but he still wanted to be a part of it. Nothing about the path he chose was ever going to be easy, but there was something worth fighting for here. Yes, it would be painful and it would be hard for him not to compare it to what they had once had, but he would be able to get through it. He could try doing things differently, and she would end up safe here with whatever she chose. The knowledge that she would probably not remember this conversation still weighed heavily on him, but he was strong enough to carry that knowledge for the both of them.
Allison looked at him curiously, appraisingly for a few very long moments after he spoke, both so that her thoughts could settle on his words and because she wanted to see if they were genuine. He was willing to go through the pain of being around her even though she wouldn’t know him, and he was willing to try to let her start fresh and know him all over again. She wasn’t sure what her decisions would be or how she would focus going forward, and she was still stressing herself out trying to remember the past, which really wasn’t working. This, though, almost seemed hopeful. If he was willing, maybe they could find a way to make it actually happen. The idea of having memories of her own, that weren’t being fed to her, was an addictive one. “I want to know you,” she affirmed.
Scott didn't say anything as Allison watched him, evaluating if he was meaning what he was saying. He didn't flinch as the wheels turned or acknowledge the fact that he could practically hear a lock turning on where her memories of before had been kept in her mind. A door could always be reopened, but they had to find a way to help Allison live in the present, not the past.
"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that," he told her, nodding to the food truck that was coming into view, "so you'll have to let me buy you food to express that."
It would’ve been so easy from an outsider’s perspective to think that knowing Scott McCall would be the easiest thing. He was so kind and so handsome, and Allison could tell both of those things from what she did know of him. However, Allison’s memory posed more of a problem than just the obvious. It set her so on edge and made her jumpy and detached, and that was why it took so much extra work just to come to conclusions. But she was very firm in her desire to know Scott, who clearly valued her so much. She could make no promises to him, and she wouldn’t give him false hope, but he wanted to be there, and she wanted to know him.
“I can do that,” she said, smiling a little more. “And not only because I didn’t come through with any money at all.”