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Allison wakes up gasping with horror and the emotional whiplash of going from the thrill of new (and slightly illicit) passion to sheer, paralyzing terror.
Let’s do him, Allison. Let’s do him together.
Aunt Kate’s obscene invitation echoing in her head is bad enough, but when Allison finds her dream-dagger lying on her bed, she looks from it to Lydia, sleeping and utterly defenseless amidst a pile of books and papers, and knows she has to do something.
“Lydia,” she says, not daring to reach out, not trusting herself to touch Lydia without hurting her somehow, “Lydia, wake up. Lydia!”
Lydia, who somehow slept through Allison’s violent awakening, stirs at the urgency in Allison’s voice, the barely concealed terror.
“Hmmm? What? What is it?” Lydia sits up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, then straightens, coming alert as she realizes something is wrong. “Allison? Why are you holding a dagger?”
Allison is shaking. She looks down at the blade in her hand and forces herself to unwrap her fingers, tossing it aside with a flick of her wrist. Allison knows better than to treat her weapons with such disrespect, but she needs it away, as quickly and as far as possible. It’s not enough though, Allison is a deadly weapon all on her own; she doesn’t need a dagger to be a threat.
“A dream,” Allison says. “Or a hallucination, or something. I saw Isaac, and Kate…and then I woke up and I was holding this knife and I think you need to go now.”
Allison swallows hard and closes her eyes, then yanks them open again when all she sees behind her eyelids is Kate. Kate in the morgue, Kate getting her throat ripped out, Kate gloating over Derek, Kate throttling Isaac…
Allison shakes her head and stares desperately at Lydia, hands fisted in the covers of her bed. “You need to leave.”
Lydia looks from Allison to the dagger now lying on the floor, then back to Allison, and says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I could have killed you,” Allison says, drawing her knees up and pressing both hands against her mouth. “I would have killed you earlier if Isaac hadn’t been there and I could have killed you again, just now. It’s not safe. I’m not safe. I don’t want to hurt you and I can’t trust myself. Not my eyes, or any of my senses, not my instincts, nothing. You should go.”
“Deaton said you opened a door. And Stiles said something about ‘not letting them in.’ I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
Allison stares at Lydia in disbelief. “Did you not hear what I said just now? I’m not in control. You can’t stay here because I might actually kill you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Allison,” Lydia says, tossing her hair and climbing off the bed. “You’re right that we need to do something, but there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
Allison flinches.
“Sorry,” Lydia says, not sounding very sorry at all, “Turn of phrase. All this creepiness brings out macabre metaphors. We just need to make sure you can’t hurt anyone.”
“What are you suggesting? I just told you I can’t control myself. What are you going to do, tie me up?”
Lydia smiles. “Yes, actually. You’re a hunter. You must have ropes and things.”
“Well, yes, but - ”
“Or I could call Isaac to come keep an eye on you?”
Allison flushes and Lydia gives her a knowing look and adds, “Or Scott? If you’re not in control then someone needs to be. We can’t have you running around Beacon Hills shooting arrows at anyone who happens to cross your path. Not everyone signed up for that you know.”
Allison looks down at her hands, fingers twined together like if she holds on hard enough she can keep her hands from betraying her. “I don’t even know what’s real anymore. Stiles says he can’t tell dreams from reality...what if I can’t either? What if none of this is real?”
Lydia thinks for a moment, then says, “I know what’s real.”
“I can’t trust anything, how can I trust anything? The visions, they’re so real. Nothing feels solid!”
“I know how you feel,” Lydia says. “You have to make a choice though. Who are you going to trust, me or your lying mind?”
It's a terrible joke. Allison rolls her eyes and says, "Ha ha," but she finds that she's smiling a bit too.
Lydia quirks one eyebrow and tilts her head in a shrug. Allison hesitates, weighing her fears, then sighs and mutters, “Fine. There’s rope in the bag in my closet.”
“Okay then.”
Allison stays where she is, not daring to move, while Lydia finds the rope and brings it back to her. Then she grimaces and shows Lydia how to tie her up without hurting her.
“How good are you?” Lydia asks, holding the rope and giving Allison a critical look. “I assume that if I just tied you up you’d be able to get yourself loose pretty quickly?”
Allison thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”
“You’re not a werewolf. You don’t have super-strength or claws or fangs so we just need to worry about hunter training, right?”
“Right.”
“If I tied your hands together, how long would it take you to get free?”
“If I really wanted to get loose? About five minutes. This room is full of weapons and if it came down to it I could kick out the window or break the mirror and cut myself free.”
“Okay,” Lydia says, tapping one finger against her lips.
Allison can see the gears turning in Lydia’s head and feels herself start to relax in spite of herself. She might not be able to trust herself, but she does trust Lydia.
“We’re going to have to tie you to the bed. We still have school tomorrow and you need to sleep, we just need you to not be sleep-walking.”
Allison sighs. Lydia might be right, but it doesn’t mean Allison has to like the solution.
“Bed’s more comfortable than the chair,” Lydia says. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”
“No, not really. Okay, I have to not be able to reach any of the ropes to untie them, I have to not be able to get close enough to chew through the rope, and I have to not be able to reach anything sharp or break anything to get a sharp edge.”
“And you’re sure that will keep you from getting free?”
“Not a hundred percent sure. You never really know what you can do until you’re desperate or, or crazy or whatever. But it’ll definitely slow me down, and I wouldn’t be able to get loose quietly. You’ll have time to call for help if you need to.”
“All right,” Lydia says, “Let’s do this.”
“Wait,” Allison says, and Lydia pauses, eyebrows raised, as Allison gets up from the bed and systematically goes through her room, removing a small arsenal of weapons from their myriad hiding places.
“Good god Allison. Is that everything?”
Allison pauses, remembers something. “No, not quite.” She fishes a matched set of throwing knives from their places at the head and foot of her bed. “There, done.”
“Come into my parlor…” Lydia says faintly and Allison frowns at her.
“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”
Lydia eyes the pile of weapons on the floor, then looks back at Allison with obvious skepticism.
“Okay fine. So I’m prepared. It pays to be prepared.”
“For werewolves or World War III, whichever comes first,” Lydia mutters.
“Exactly. All right, let’s get this over with.”
* * *
“Oh, god, this is so embarrassing,” Allison says, as Lydia finishes tying the last knot. “I feel like an idiot.” Her hands are tied to either side of the headboard, with enough slack to move around a bit, but not enough that Allison could reach any of the ropes. Her feet are tied together and tethered to the foot of the bed to prevent her kicking her way free. It’s not ideal but it’s more awkward than actively uncomfortable.
“On the plus side,” Lydia says brightly, “you probably won’t kill me in my sleep.”
“There is that. Oh, stop smiling. Stiles is right, you’re enjoying this too much.”
“I do enjoy not being the crazy one,” Lydia agrees. “But I could do without my friends trying to kill me.”
Allison winces against a fresh wave of guilt. “Lydia, I -”
“Not your fault. Don’t worry about it.” Lydia waves one hand in a dismissive gesture, then hesitates. “You’re not actually crazy, Allison. This isn’t you, it’s a mystical-voodoo problem. We just need to find the solution.”
“Yeah,” Allison says, sighing. “Not crazy, just cursed. Or something.”
“Exactly. All right, we’re set. Can I…get you anything?” Lydia asks, all studied nonchalance. “Pillow? Water? Anything?”
Allison tugs at the ropes, shifting around in an attempt to get comfortable. “No I think I’m good. We better figure this out soon though, this is a short-term solution. I can’t spend all my nights tied to the bed -”
Lydia snorts and Allison flushes again, bright red this time; she can feel her face burning. Allison squeezes her eyes shut and says, “I didn’t say that. Pretend I never said that.”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t take pictures?”
“No!”
“For posterity?”
“I will kill you.”
“It’s a bad idea anyway. If Scott and Stiles found out I tied you to your bed and then slept over, their delicate little brains would probably short-circuit.” Lydia smirks at Allison, who glares back. “That would be a shame and anyway, they’re part of the team.”
Allison gives in and smiles. Lydia smiles back, a real smile this time, and sinks down on the bed to stretch out next to Allison, closing her eyes and showing every sign of settling in for the night.
Allison looks down at her and frowns. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Well, I’m not sleeping on the floor,” Lydia says, without opening her eyes. “And even if you’re really quiet I doubt you could get yourself loose without moving around enough to wake me.”
“Or kill you.”
Lydia sit up and glares. “Think positive, Allison, come on! The ropes are solid, right?”
Allison tugs at her bindings. “Yes.”
“Then we’re fine for tonight. Unless your visions start physically manifesting, in which case we’re probably both screwed. Either way, we don’t need to be adding sleep-deprived hallucinations to the magical-backlash hallucinations.” Lydia gives Allison a serious look, holding her gaze. “Go to sleep. We’ll figure it out in the morning. If we don’t have a solution by tomorrow we’ll get you a werewolf bodyguard or a nice padded cell until you’re safe to be out on your own, okay?”
Allison closes her eyes and nods. “Okay.”
“Hey,” Lydia says, her voice more gentle than Allison is used to. “You’ll be fine. We’re all going to be fine. We beat the last batch of evil to come through here, we can deal with this too.”
“Okay. Okay, yes. We’ll be fine. Sorry.” Allison takes a deep breath. Panicking won’t do any of them any good at all. Lydia’s right, they can do this. She can do this. Probably. Hopefully.
Lydia lays back down and closes her eyes. She looks peaceful, so she, at least, must have a good deal of faith in their security precautions. Allison’s not so sure, and Lydia’s throwaway comment about her visions physically manifesting is actually really terrifying and also maybe a contingency they should be planning for. But right at the moment it’s late, and Lydia’s right, they do need sleep. It won’t do any of them any good if they’re too tired to think straight. Allison closes her eyes and settles in as well as she can. They’ll figure it out tomorrow. For right now, Allison may be going crazy, but at least she’s not alone.