allison argent doesn't remember. (memory) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2014-09-08 12:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | allison argent (memory!au), scott mccall (memory!au) |
WHO Memory!Scott and Allison
WHAT They go bowling and Allison has a good day!
WHEN Waaaay back-dated to August 22.
WHERE Bowling alley!
STATUS Complete.
Being told all of the new information that Scott had given her earlier had been a point of fascination for Allison. It made her anxious, of course, but all such things did. The fact that her day had begun so positively with a continued memory had set her so much more at ease anyway, but the new knowledge filled in some of those blanks and helped support the memories she had. They were attached to feelings, and knowing that the feelings were genuine and reactionary to specific events helped solidify it. The first one, with the dance, was a bit more than the second. She didn’t really know where they were or what they were wearing, but she saw his face and he was smiling. And she felt a burst of surprise and some warmth. It was the first time he’d told her he loved her, he said. It made so much sense. He’d also said that it hadn’t been a perfect night on the whole, but she didn’t need those details completely. The memory was a good one, such as it was.
The second was shorter, but it was sweet and amusing. She didn’t know quite why, other than what she supposed was a giddy first date feeling, but learning what she had let her put it chronologically before the other. And it let her believe that perhaps the dance memory had come after some of the complications Scott had mentioned, which was why it had that little bit of extra tension in it. None of this was very much, but it was something. After so long, it felt like, of nothing, she was so overjoyed to have even this little bit.
Still, Allison’s lack of memory made her react a little differently to all of the information than she might’ve otherwise. She didn’t have feelings of nostalgia or sadness over it, like she might’ve, but rather was just genuinely curious and fascinated by it all, the good and the bad. The fact that there had been a definite point in time when Scott McCall loved her made her view him differently, a bit more curiously and perhaps a little more shyly.
All in all, it had been such a good day, and the bowling plans had only topped it off. She’d insisted they go that evening, not wanting to have the chance to sleep and reset before it happened. She’d gotten dressed a little nicer, pulling on some black jeans and a pretty, flowy shirt she’d gotten with one of the Lydias. She even tidied up her hair and put on some of the makeup one of the other Lydias had helped her get (Clinique, as instructed, which she really liked, even if she didn’t wear much of it most of the time). She told her dad where she was going, and then grabbed her notebook and cards, just in case he said something she needed to note. Scott came to get her, and the two walked to the bowling alley, which was a ways off but not too terribly bad.
The bowling alley was a little overwhelming at first, with its loud music and flashing lights, but Allison forced herself to calm down and get over it, and she was pleased that she was able to do so. The idea of bowling shoes, foreign as it was to her in her current state, was a little disgusting, but she’d brought some socks like the Internet had suggested when she researched, and that was enough.
She finished tying her last shoe, then looked up, grinning, at Scott. “Are you ready to lose, Scott McCall?”
Scott had told Allison that it would be alright if she never regained her memories, that he'd be able to find a way to live without her holding their past in her mind. The last thing he wanted to do was to burden her with the guilt that he felt over the situation. He could remember for the both of them. It was painful and didn't seem fair, but that paled in comparison to the thought of her not being around to create new memories. There had been good and bad days, but they were days that they had. He just needed some time to put things in perspective.
However, Allison remembering a few brief moments had taken him off guard. He didn't want to get his hopes too far up, but it was impossible not to. She had recalled two memories of their time without prompting, something that had seemed impossible. They were important parts in their combined past so having those two memories return to her felt like a sip of water after a marathon through the desert. It wasn't enough to satiate him in the long run, but it was enough to get him through the next few weeks. He had clamped down on the joy at the return of the memory and had tried to be careful when describing it to her, but he couldn't keep the spring out of his step when they walked to the bowling alley. He could pinpoint why he was feeling nostalgic, but he didn't want to overwhelm her with everything that was going on in her mind. He'd explain if she'd ask, but he wanted her to make her own memories as well. Bowling alleys, after all, were a special place to them both.
"I still have faith in my secret weapon, Allison Argent," he retorted, hefting a ball up and testing it for weight. He glanced quickly at her, trying to clamp down on the thought of her naked like he had done a lifetime ago to help him bowl better, and handed her a purple ball. "See if this one works for you."
Allison hadn’t really been trying to remember the past, not since she’d been told that it was okay to focus on herself and on retaining the present. It hadn’t been an easy time, to be sure – that morning she’d awoken out of her room had set her off-balance for most of the next week. But she’d come up with two memories on her own, and the emotions attached to them, and Allison was so thrilled with that. It made this all seem just that tiny bit less impossible. She knew that she wouldn’t always recall them, especially over the next little while, because her notebook showed that the memories were spotty enough as it was, but they were still there.
She’d taken a lot of notes before Scott came to get her, wanting to write down as much as she could of the evening so that it was there to fall back on even if she didn’t remember it tomorrow. It was settled right beside the machine that took the score, ready for her to make notes throughout the night too.
“We’ll see. And then you’ll lose and tell me what it is,” she responded, grinning, and took the ball as it was handed to her. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like, but I think it’s fine.” She set it in her lap, looking at him expectantly. “Okay, you go first so I can watch how you do it.”
Scott shook his head slightly, ducking to hide the grin that was inching across his face. A small part of him felt bad for taking advantage of her memory loss and hoping that he would actually beat her at the game, but his past success - or lack of it, more specifically - had him crossing his fingers behind his back. He wasn't sure how Allison would take hearing what his secret weapon was, but they were teenagers. It was expected.
"Well, it's always a good thing if you can lift it easily," he pointed out, grabbing a red ball and swinging it freely to test its weight. This was primarily for show as he could use any of them with ease, but the motion would hopefully show her what to do. He glanced up at the screen, seeing their names printed up in higher lights, before stepping up on the wood. He lifted the ball in front of his face, glancing down at the pins, and said a brief prayer that he wouldn't embarrass himself too terribly as he dropped his arm behind him and took a few steps towards the painted line. The ball rolled towards the triangle and, much to his surprise, managed to knock two down before hitting the backboard.
Scott turned back to Allison as the machine cleared the knocked pins off the lane, certain his look of surprise wasn't well hidden. "There's skill involved," he reluctantly pointed out, "but I'm pretty sure a lot of this is just dumb luck."
Allison watched and listened as he explained, studying the motion with a great deal more attention than most would have devoted to something so simple and silly as bowling. Allison was a perfectionist deep down, though, even if she didn’t always remember being that way. She wanted to know that what she was doing was right, and that meant watching carefully to see how he did it. She watched his release and the pins that were hit, her eyebrows lifting.
“You let go too late,” she said, and then laughed at the absurdity. “Which, clearly, I know so much about being an expert and all.” She stood, her ball in hand, and moved to the wooden lane. She made sure her fingers were in properly, and she observed the pins at the end thoughtfully.
She took a few steps forward before releasing the ball, watching it roll down the lane. It knocked out half of the pins, and she smiled, turning back to him. “Off to an early lead,” she said. She retrieved the ball when it came back around and rolled her second attempt, leaving only two pins remaining. It wasn’t perfect, but it had given her a chance to get a feel for what she’d need to do in the future. Satisfied, she returned to her seat, grinning. “You’re up, McCall.”
"You give a girl a ball and all of a sudden she thinks she's an expert," Scott teased as she moved past him to take her turn after the lane had reset from his modest performance. He perched on the ball return as she paused, taking a second to observe her with he back turned. She looked healthy and alive, whole. He could see the familiar determined set to her shoulders and the slight hesitation as she got used to the motions. He would have sworn he was back in a different bowling alley in another world if it wasn't for the scars that were hidden under their clothes.
His lips lifted in an answering smile as she turned around, and he clapped, pleased at her performance. "So apparently bowling is just like riding a bike," he said, pausing at the turn of phrase and belatedly remembering that sometimes she had problems with idioms and metaphors. He grabbed his ball be stood up, head tilted as he considered how to phrase it. "Um, your body remembers more than your brain. But still, I wouldn't get too comfortable. I haven't let me secret weapon out of the bag yet." ...and hey, they didn't need to acknowledge that his ball landed in the gutter halfway down the lane.
Allison shrugged and flipped her hair over her shoulder, a little sassy in response to his teasing, though there was definitely a grin on her face. Allison had learned over the last few months (though there was a reminder on the page she read each morning) that practice was important and that she couldn’t expect perfection on the first attempt. The fact that she’d not gotten all of the pins on her first try didn’t really bother her, therefore. She just sat and recalculated in her brain how to get more the next time.
She looked at him curiously at his phrasing, glad that he explained it before she could ask. She always felt so silly when she missed those figurative languages, so it was nice that people were catching on to that fact and offering explanations. “Oh, thank goodness, because I was going to worry that your secret weapon had lost its power,” she said, stifling a laugh with her hand when the ball sailed right into the gutter.
"Don't worry," Scott assured her as his ball rolled out of the return, "it still works. I was just concentrating on my form so you could get a second look." He gave her a dimpling smile and took his place again at the head of the lane. He let out his breath in a sigh, relaxing, and took a bit of her other advice when he swung forward. The ball sailed down and knocked six down, a reasonably high score for him - not that Allison remembered.
"See? Nothing to worry about. Are you ready to surrender my card to me?" He bragged, plopping back on the hard plastic seat.
“That was very kind of you to show off your form,” Allison responded, grinning. She didn’t realize the innuendo there, since innuendo was another of those things that didn’t really resonate with her. Still, both meanings were true. Now that she knew that they had that connection in the past, she’d started looking at Scott with a different mindset. It was very curious and shy, and she was definitely blushing a little as she observed him.
She grinned at his little victory and bragging words, nudging him with her elbow as she stood. “Not yet. I’m still winning,” she said, and returned to the lane with her ball. She observed the pins very thoughtfully a moment, strategizing, and then threw the ball somewhat differently. It took out all but two of the pins this time and she beamed, proud of the progress. She cast the second ball, knocking out one more of them, and then returned triumphantly to where he sat. “Want to go ahead and just tell me that secret weapon of yours? It might save you the embarrassment of losing.”
"For now," Scott gently corrected, pointing at her as she breezed past him. He wasn't too concerned about the score; he was more interested in watching and spending time with her. He knew that his presence sometimes could be a bit heavy to her, but she seemed to be growing used to her. He had been worried in the beginning that each morning they would have to restart everything and lose the progress they had made the day before, and while there had been setbacks, he could tell that she was starting to act more relaxed around him. He still missed the Allison he had explored the reserve with and sneaked out of the house with, but they had a new routine here. He was introducing things to her and showing her what living was like, and that was good enough for now.
"One thing to know about me," Scott said, giving her a golf clap as her turn was over, "is that it's pretty hard to embarrass me. So, nice try, Striker, but you're going to have to earn that knowledge."
Allison still went through phases, and still would. It was very likely that one of the next few days would be another bad one, and she’d have to rebuild over the few days that followed it. However, that was simply the nature of this process. Every time she rebuilt, she was gaining just a few more memories. It was getting easier and easier to remember herself in the morning, and she was able to pick up on general emotions and feelings around certain people, too. She knew deep down that she’d never be completely fixed, but she was intent on continuing to live and make her situation work for her.
“Really? That kind of sounds like a challenge,” she responded, grinning. “You’re up, Scott. Better get them all this time or I’m going to totally sweep past you.”
"It's one you don't have to take right away." Scott glanced at the score and did his best not to grimace at the numbers she was putting up. He knew better than to lie to her and spin this like golf, where the lowest score won, but he knew she had done her research. Plus, he was horrible at lying. He could bend the truth a little if absolutely necessary, but lying just wasn't in him. It hurt more than it helped, he thought, and when things went to pot he tries his best to protect the others.
"The game's far from over," he told her, getting up and taking his turn. Luckily, by some miracle or the god of bowling was on his side for a moment, he managed to knock all but the two far corners. He'd take a split over a gutter ball any day, and he told her that when he got back. "I'm liking my chances so far."
“I would need time to plan anyway,” Allison responded, shrugging a shoulder but still smiling brightly. She didn’t ever get the sense that Scott was lying to her, truly, and she was terribly keen on noticing those things these days. Everyone around her had certain things they were keeping from her, she knew. She could feel as much, and he was no different, but she didn’t blame any of them for it. Everything that had happened, especially right around her death, had been traumatic for them as well. Watching her react to hearing it for the first time would be hard, she knew. Especially since the likelihood of retaining the memory was so low.
“For now,” she said, grinning still. She clapped triumphantly at his good toss, proud of it, especially comparison to his previous rolls. Once he’d finished his turn, she stood again, and managed to throw a strike on her first roll. She bounced where she stood, very pleased with herself, and turned back to him with a bright expression. “I got them all in one!”
Scott shouldn't have been surprised. He knew that Allison was a gifted athlete and her aim was impeccable, but seeing all of the pins scatter as her ball plowed into them caused his jaw to drop momentarily. He clapped enthusiastically when she turned around, riding high on her victory, and gave her a loud whistle despite the glares that were sent in his direction.
"Maybe I shouldn't have given you that nickname so quickly," he laughed, holding his hand up for a high five as she came back.
That little perfectionist within her was utterly thrilled at her success, and she’d managed to figure out a sort of technique in her brain that she had a feeling would work well for her moving forward. She grinned at the whistle, her hands folding beneath her chin in excitement as she moved back towards him. “You shouldn’t have! It’s entirely your own fault,” she responded, accepting his high five with a slap. “You might want to go on and break out that secret weapon if you’re going to stay close!”
"That's what I get for being both a cheerleader and competitor," Scott put a hand over his face and exaggeratedly grimaced, hamming it up just a bit. However, truth be told, he wasn't that upset that he was losing. This was about sharing something from their past with Allison and making sure she was having a good time, and if her excited smiles and enthusiasts high fives were any indication he was right on track. "That sounds like a good idea."
He picked up his ball and held it for a moment, closing his eyes as he flipped back to their first time bowling. He could feel the memory of her coming up behind him, his own mouth lifting in a grin as he responded to the smile in her voice. Imagine me...naked. He nearly dropped the ball like he had almost done at that time too as the image of her sprang to mind, but this time he actually had an image of her to draw on. He loudly cleared his throat and shook his head lest anything show for that memory, and managed to knock about half of the pins down - thankfully on the same side.
“That’s always a very fine, fine line to tread!” she responded, grinning. She was both too, in spite of the challenging way she teased him. She delighted in his victories and thought this would all be much more fun if they were close in points. She nodded at his response. “I have them sometimes.”
She watched from behind, unsure of what to expect from him but smiling all the while. She really was enjoying herself, to be sure. She’d write about lovely it was to bowl with Scott, even if it wasn’t the bowling that made it so enjoyable. He was so comfortable to be around, to be honest. It was hard not to want to spend even more time with him. She watched his movements with amused curiosity, still completely in the dark as to what this secret weapon might be, but she clapped at his roll. “Ooooh, nice! Just hit the rest with your second ball and you’ll be on the right track!”
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Scott laughed, shooting a smile over at her as he waited on his ball to come out of the return. He bit his lip for a second, debating, before beckoning her closer. He knew he was taking a slight risk, but he could feel how relaxed she was getting around him and it might not ruffle her feathers.
"I've been showing you a lot of things, and since I only have half the pins to knock down," he said, looking up to calculate what he had on his plate, "I don't have much to lose. If you were me, Lady Luck, where would you aim?" He gave her an encouraging nod and didn't say anything, letting her make up his mind. He would aim smack dab in the middle of the group with a lot of force to hopefully blast them all down, but he wanted to see if her memory could make the connection between archery and bowling. So far he was convinced that her body remembered a lot more than her brain did. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me."
“Oh, shut your mouth with your sass!” Allison responded, laughing. When he beckoned, she stood and moved to him, grinning curiously. She listened as he spoke, her eyes moving to the pins thoughtfully as she contemplated what he was saying and what her move would be. She adjusted a lot closer to him, so that they were actually touching, and stood up on her toes behind him so that she could see over his shoulder, to get a better view on the alley and what he’d be seeing. She hummed, giving herself a moment to think. “Right down the middle, I think. Hard,” she said, not realizing that the positioning was very much the same as where she’d been when she’d given him his secret weapon in the first place.
Scott stilled as she moved closer, not wanting to make any sudden move to startle her. He felt his heart clench slightly as the memory ghosted between them in the echo of their posture, and it took all of his strength not to drop the ball on the ground and tell her the secret right there and flood her with the memory. He didn't want to spook her, after all. So he nodded and squared his shoulders. "Right down the middle," he confirmed, taking a few reluctant steps forward and throwing his ball towards the pins. They wobbled for a moment, some falling and others defying gravity by stubbornly refusing to topple over, and victory was hers.
"Shoot," he groaned, tipping his head back and hamming up his defeat as he trudged back to the seats, "I had the chance to win and got my butt handed to me."
Allison had the advantage of being out of his line of sight as well, and after she’d spoken, she realized how close they were and how intimate the positioning was. It made her breath catch just a tiny bit and her heart race a little too, and she didn’t have enough recollection to think that he might hear those things, but it was certainly possible. She stepped back on her feet as he moved forward, her hands curling into little fists as she waited to see the outcome of her advice.
“Awww, you poor thing!” she said, grinning. They bowled a few more frames of the thirteen in much the same fashion, with her getting strikes and spares and him modestly keeping at least somewhat up. By the time the last one rolled around, she was pretty solidly winning and there really wasn’t a chance. “Here, I’ll be kind,” she said, laughing, just before he went up. “If you can get just a spare this round, I’ll let you make three notes on your notecard.”
Scott was too polite to tell her that he could hear the slight changes her body made to their proximity, and he stored that information away to get him through another bad day. He filed it away with her little victory dances and delighted shrieks as she pulled away, widening the gap in their scores like she had been bowling every day of her life. He did his best not to pout too much at his low score and took a few comforting swigs of his coke to keep his spirits up. Not that he needed it.
"Just a spare, the lady says," Scott said, rolling his eyes as he made his way up to take his last turn, "How generous of you." He squared his shoulders and wiggled a little, staring down the pins. He had known going into the game that he was going to have to share his memory with Allison so he didn't have much to lose, but he still wanted to save some face. His first attempt knocked down a majority of the pins, and, thanks to some major luck and some little extra werewolf oomph he managed to deliver.
"Ha! I hope you brought a sharpie with you, Allison," he bragged, pumping his fist in the air as he made his way back to her.
Thank goodness for how polite Scott was, because Allison really didn’t know all that much about werewolves just yet and would’ve been a little startled outright if he’d just happened to mention being able to hear her breathing and heartrate. It was good, for at least this moment, that she had a chance not to be particularly embarrassed.
“I know, right? I’m the most generous,” she responded, grinning and shrugging a shoulder. She watched him move, cheering him on in her brain just because she enjoyed him (and partially because she was actually pretty curious about what he’d add to the card). When he was successful, she cheered out loud for him, clapping and extending her hand to high five him. “Better make sure you’ve picked the best three, Mr. Braggart.”
She stood and cast her last few balls, managing to pull a perfect three strikes and turning back with an excited flourish. “And I win!”
Scott leaned back against the hard plastic chair and let Allison have a good time as she sailed down victory row. He playfully grimaced as three perfect X's lit up the screen and clapped for her, careful not to rain on her parade. Truth be told, he wasn't disappointed in losing. It had been easy to forget the past few months while they hung hung out, and watching her playful, competitive side shine through had kept the evening from dipping into moments of melancholic nostalgia.
"You're not going to let me forget this, are you?" Scott joked, standing up and holding his hands out for his own rounds of high fives, "and this means that I owe you a secret, my lady."
Allison had been destined to win by about halfway through the game, to be honest, so she wasn’t really surprised that the points went that direction. However, the success of getting three strikes in a row had her riding on a particular high, and she was really very excited. That playful, competitive side was definitely something that hadn’t come out into the world in some time now, and it felt so incredibly nice and normal. She was so grateful to him for that, even if the intensity of that feeling of appreciation hadn’t dawned on her yet. He’d given her a chance to feel normal.
“Nope, I’m writing it down and making it part of my morning routine,” she responded cheekily as she moved to accept his high fives. “You most certainly do! Spill it, buddy.”
“Wait, you’re going to write down that you handed me my ass on your little cheat sheet?” Scott asked, an eyebrow going up as he reshelved the balls. He placed his hands on his hips and studied her, gauging her level of seriousness, before shaking his head with a little laugh. Of course she would; Allison was competitive at heart. However, if he took a second to think about it, it was a good thing. The memory wasn’t about him losing - it was about her succeeding at something and having a good time. True, she had wiped the floor with him, but it would be a good memory. “Fine. I guess I can let my humiliation last in infamy.”
He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he turned to face her, determining the best way to share his secret. He knew there weren’t any other werewolves at the bowling alley that could overhear him tell her what it was, but he didn’t want to broadcast to the people around him that he had thought of her naked. “It’s nothing too big,” he casually said, catching her arm as he moved past her, and leaned in closer so she could hear his confession. “Once, when I was doing poorly, you told me to imagine you naked.”
Allison grinned. “Absolutely yes,” she said, matching his look with a firm, amused one of her own. In truth, she wouldn’t phrase it as that – she’d mention that she enjoyed bowling with Scott, and especially enjoying winning. The emphasis for all of the things on that cheat sheet was what she loved to do and who she did it with. The Lydias were on there a few times, and her father (of course). The deputy was as well, because he was so kind to her and had some experience. Pretty much any of the people she fairly regularly interacted with ultimately appeared on it. It got longer and longer by the week, which Allison honestly thought was good progress. The more she could start her day knowing, the better off she felt she was. “Good, because you don’t really have a choice.”
She was very curious about what it was that he’d have to share with her, but she really wasn’t expecting what he actually said. Her face flushed and she blinked a little, surprised, but then ultimately couldn’t help but giggle. “That’s your secret weapon?” she asked curiously, smiling at him.
“That’s my secret weapon,” Scott affirmed, pulling away with a twinkle in his eye, “and it’s entirely your fault.” He elbowed her playfully before holding out a hand to her, head tilting towards the door. They had been in the building long enough to get assimilated to the flashing lights and loud music, but now that their game was over the extra stimulation was starting to overload his sensitive senses. Some fresh air would do him good, allowing him to think more clearly and not entirely of the flush that spread across Allison’s cheeks.
“I can wait until we get back to add to the cards,” he said, tapping his chin. What to add… “I’ve got to make them all count. I can’t just put ‘eats all of Kamekona’s shrimp tacos in one sitting’ on there. You’d get us all confused in no time.”
Allison kept giggling, a little from embarrassment and mostly from amusement. It was definitely not what she was expecting, but it was also really kind of an interesting thing for her. She took the hand he offered, letting herself be led out of the loud, flashy building, and it gave her a chance to think on it and to settle down the flush in her cheeks.
“I really would, it’s true. They’ve got to be you-specific Scott McCall things,” she agreed, but her mind was still on his secret. Once they were outside, she grinned and looked up at him again. “So do you actually have memories to draw on for that, or are you just using your imagination?” she asked, her tone very curious and amused still. It wasn’t the sort of thing that had any kind of suggestion to it, but rather just a general curiosity.
“It’d ruin the surprise if I told you that,” Scott squeezed her hand out of habit, swinging it gently between them as they left the bowling alley behind. His mind was turning her statement over, looking for things that set him apart from the others. His thoughts instantly went to the events that were playing out on the show - his history - but there weren’t many bright spots that he wanted her to remember him by. Before, he had meant to fill it with silly things. Able to jump over three cars in a single bound, capable of actually capturing that pesky fly that buzzed around your ear but you could never trap, went through $300 worth of groceries in a week…
“Is there anything in specific you want to know about me?” he suddenly asked, “I mean, is there something that I should put on there to help you distinguish me from the others.”
The fact that her hand stayed in his might’ve made her feel awkward, but the day they’d had so far had been such a lovely one and she felt so flushed and bashful now that it was really such a nice thing. Her heart was beating just a little faster and her smile was pretty permanent, and she was just so intrigued by this idea that his secret had been what it was. “So you have seen me naked,” she said, inferring his meaning even though he was being coy.
“Hm,” she said, giving it some thought. “I mean, memories aren’t really as helpful for the index cards unless I come up with them myself. Maybe things that you like. If I were to surprise you, what would you like most? What’s your favorite food or color or scent? Things like that.”
“You were my first,” Scott confessed with a nod, “but when you told me I was just going off of imagination. The real thing was better than what I thought of, by the way.” He glanced up at the sky, pretty sure a flush of his own was creeping up his cheeks at the memory. He wasn’t shy about himself, but the conversation wasn’t one that could keep certain memories at bay.
He hastily cleared his throat and returned his attention to what she was saying. “I have a few things along those lines that I was going to put on them,” he shared, “but I have to make these count. Favorite color’s a simple thing that I don’t mind repeating. Here, give me a card.”
Allison was so curious about this story, even if it made her feel bashful. This was a significant part of her life, after all. She hadn’t really given thought to her virginity (though she wouldn’t have remembered anyway). “Oh,” she said, but she was smiling, and she held his hand a little bit tighter involuntarily. “That’s a sweet memory, I think.”
She grinned a little more and a little less bashfully when he mentioned the cards and what he might put on them. “Okay, hang on,” she said, untangling her hand from his and reaching into her bag to pull out her notecards. She shuffled through them until she found the most recent of his, which really didn’t have anything on it so far, and handed it over with a pen.
Scott balled his hand in a fist when she let go, unconsciously holding the feeling of her hand in his for a few more moments. So much power went in to something as simple as a touch, and it had been something he had been without for a while. It was easy to feel both surrounded by friends and isolated simultaneously in this world - there were versions of his friends that had gone through so many different things and lived in different places - and back home he had been focused on making sure everyone else was getting through that he hadn’t had time to focus on himself. It wasn’t much, holding hands with Allison, but it was something that helped. The others had been right; she wasn’t the only one that needed healing.
“How many of those do you have of me?” Scott asked, craning his neck around to watch as she shifted through her pile to extract one that he could write on. He didn’t wait for her to answer and braced the card against his thigh. One day, Scott wants to travel along the Pacific Coast Highway on a Harley (a really cool motorcycle.)
Allison was very careful about touch these days, if only because getting those touches could be very startling at times when she didn’t always remember who she was or how she fit into the world. But holding Scott’s hand had been a lovely thing. Naturally, that would change by the day, given how much or little she happened to remember. She was really curious as she handed the card over, laughing. “Not enough,” she responded with a grin. She craned over his shoulder to see what he wrote, looking at it with interest. “Where is the Pacific Coast Highway?” she asked.
Scott glanced back over at her pile and laughed. "I'm really a simple guy when you compare me to the others," he told her, turning the pen around and tapping the closed end against her hand, "and eventually I'll have to see them so I don't waste my extra two facts on things you already have written down." He didn't have the tragic backstory that some had that he helped through, had a supportive parent who was thankfully here, and had a best friend back home who kept him from losing his hold on reality when things got rough.
He held the card out so she could look at it and drew a wiggling line near where he had written. "It's a stretch of highway in California," he explained, tucking the pen behind his ear, "and it hugs the coastline. It's full of twists and turns, but the views are incredible. Well, so I've seen on Google." He handed back the notecard and brushed his hands on his shorts, choosing not to add more facts at the moment. He had plenty of time here to add more, and he didn't want to overload her at once.
“That’s okay. Simple is good,” Allison said, smiling. She looked at him curiously. “Have you not seen much of them?” she asked. It wasn’t, of course, as though she could or would really say anything about it if such were the case. After all, she still had so much trouble spending any amount of time with the other Allisons who looked like her, but that was for very different reasons.
She looked at the card, grinning at the little wiggling line. “Oooh,” she said, really liking the idea of this road that he described. “That sounds really nice. Do you actually know how to ride a motorcycle?” She took the card when he handed it back, shuffling it behind the Scott cards in her piles.
"The other Scotts?" Scott clarified. "No, other than the Scottie I live with I mainly just talk to them over the network, but I owe the adult Scott a visit soon. He wanted to go over some things with me." He tended to keep to himself so he wouldn't get in the others' way, and while he wasn't shying away from interacting with them the opportunity wasn't always there. They all had lives to live, but they had been supportive even if they were as far away as Europe.
"I do," he said, jumping on the subject change, "or at least in theory. I rode a dirt bike to school, and it's very similar in theory, just cheaper. The Harley's the best of the bunch, and it's a much more comfortable ride."
Once Allison had everything back together in her bag and her bag settled again on her shoulder, she was ready to move some more again. “He’s got a lot of children, doesn’t he?” she said, smiling. She’d heard that, and thought it was very sweet that the older ones of them had or were starting families. “I’m sure they’re all very cute.”
She looked at him curiously as he answered her question, not really knowing what a dirt bike was either, but she knew it was fun. “Is it dangerous?” she asked. “I mean, I know you’re a little bit of trouble, Scott McCall. I have that written down already.”
"It's a matter of perspective," Scott hedged, "so it depends on who you ask. I always make whoever's riding with me wear a helmet to make sure they're safe." He knew his mom probably would have preferred that he had a different ride and the Argents hadn't been too keen on Allison riding behind him, but there were advantages of having supernaturally fast reflexes. He could avoid dangers faster and had keen eyesight in the dark, so it was just as safe as riding in a car. The only problem was trying to read the mind of the other drivers.
"But you're right," he told her, a playfully dark twinkle in his eye, "I live on the edge."
In yet another of the perks of her current state of memory, Allison had no pre-conceived ideas of a motorcycle or their safety, and so she could only view the thought of such with curiosity. If it was something that Scott enjoyed and thought was fun, then she was interested in seeing more about it. She’d google when she got home, just to get a little more information.
At his playful words, she grinned, nudging him with an elbow. “On the edge of what? That’s silly.”
"The edge of danger and ... normalcy, I guess," Scott said, frowning slightly as he tried to figure out what the saying actually meant. He had been using it his entire life without pausing to think about what he was actually saying. It simply existed. "I toe the line. You can't be a werewolf and not experience any danger." That much was true, but he liked the adrenaline rush when he got on the back of his bike. It felt like he was flying, something he could only match when was running without worrying about people seeing him, and it was much more socially acceptable.
“Danger and normalcy,” Allison echoed, considering it. It was an interesting thought, and she could tell by Scott’s look at it was another of those phrases that he was just trying to explain. She nodded when he continued, because the explanation did certainly make sense. “What’s it like to be a werewolf?” she asked, curiously. “I mean, compared to being human.”
Scott shrugged, moving his shoulders as if easing the fit of a too-tight jacket. "Well, there are the physical differences," he said, easing himself into the conversation, "I'm stronger, can run faster, have better hearing." He blushed slightly, remembering how he could hear the subtle changes in her heartbeat earlier. He probably should have said something at the time, but he didn't want to risk embarrassing her in public. "And then there are the changes that come when I shift. I look like me, but there are changes. I get sideburns," he laughed, touching his cheeks and drawing his hands towards his jaw, "and my nose and forehead broaden. And then there are the teeth and claws."
He dropped a hand back down and rubbed the back of his head, debating on how deep of an explanation he should give her. "There's a strong sense of obligation to protect that comes with it," he quietly said, the joking tone leaving his voice. "I'm an alpha, so the pack's safety rests with me. I'm not just responsible for myself, you know?"
Allison was a little bit cautious after the question left her lips, because she didn’t really know if it was something it was okay for her to ask about. She really didn’t know anything about wolves, aside from what she’d researched and written down notes about. But he was answering, and she was very curious. “So you don’t just turn into a wolf, then. It’s sort of a wolfier you,” she said to clarify, not actually latching on to the hearing thing because it only made sense that he would gain a bit of hearing beyond just the norm. She didn’t think that it might mean that he could hear her breathing and heartbeat. “Which is the most useful, do you think? Which do you like the best?”
Her head tilted a little when he continued, listening to the more serious tone of his conversation. “I think you’re a good leader. You seem that way.”
"Some of us can turn into a full wolf," Scott added, "The Scott that works for Captain Hook? He can. So could Derek's mother, Thalia. I'm not sure if Laura Hale can, but I remember seeing her as a wo-... well. She might be able to." He didn't know if Laura's wolfish state had been a part of her killing, the wolfsbane, or something she had done to deal with the pain, and he didn't want to go down that road. Some memories were better left untouched. "They're all helpful in their own way, but as for liking...I'm going to have to go with our ability to heal. I had bad asthma before I was bitten, and it went away with the transformation. That way I can run fast without wheezing."
He gave her a faint smile and returned her earlier elbow. "I hope I did a good job at it."
Allison listened very curiously to his answer, finding it extremely interesting that there were some who could turn into full wolves. She wanted to ask a little more about that to try to decipher why that was the case for some and not all, but she got the sense that it could potentially be a little more than Scott really wanted to think about or talk about right now. She smiled as he answered her question, nodding. “I think that sounds like a wonderful thing,” she said.
She smiled at his nudge, but there was definitely a thoughtful look on her face. “Do you think you could heal some of the blocking in my brain?” she asked, curiously. “Or is it mostly pain that you heal?”
Scott peered closer at her face, trying to figure out what she was going to say that caused her expression to shift. He exhaled and shook his head. He wished there was more he could do in terms of memory blockages and had wished it a thousand times since she came back, but there wasn't anything he could offer her other than what he was doing now. "I can try and help you remember, but no, I don't think I can do anything to physically help," he apologized. He paused for a moment, running over what he had shared with her today, and felt a wide smile break out on his face. "How did you know I can help take away pain?"
Allison didn’t really think there was a chance that there was anything he could do, and honestly wasn’t sure she’d even had let him try. She’d gotten a few opinions since her arrival, but she was very protective of her mind and didn’t want to do anything that might risk it getting worse unless there was a really, really solid chance that it would work. “It’s okay,” she said, smiling. “I just thought I might ask.” When he asked his question, though, she had to pause, her brow furrowing a bit, thoughtful again. “You know, I’m not really sure.”
Scott’s grin grew impossibly bigger, and he reached over to give her hand a squeeze in encouragement. He hadn’t been around when the other memories had come to her, but this was one of the first times she had pulled something about their past from the depths of her blocked memory when he had been around - at least, one of the times he acutely realized what was happening. “You’re absolutely right,” he comforted, pulling her across the crosswalk as the light turned red so they were out of traffic, “and you didn’t even need a notecard to tell you that. You’re something else, Allison Argent.”
Allison was still a little confused for a moment as she tried to figure out anything more from the memory, but then she saw the grin and felt his hand and couldn’t help but smile as well. It was a memory, just like the other two, but it was the first time that Scott had been around for the recovery of one. She’d need to write it down, but that could wait just a minute. Once they were across the street, she laughed, excitement in her now. “It’s coming back, bit by bit,” she said, smiling up at him. “Let’s hope that trend continues. I could do with more days like this one.”