Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

First there had been Calvin. He was pack before she even knew what that was, the only friend either of them had. Back then, she'd thought that pack was people who were together against the world, even when the world is against them too. Calvin and Daisy (although she was still just Alice back then) had stuck to this until she'd failed to protect him, then he'd changed, then she'd changed, and then he wasn't pack anymore.

She didn't have any pack for a long while after she'd killed Calvin.

Later, with the police, there was Basira. Basira was tough, and Daisy liked how she could see what to do next in any situation, liked the way she could see how to hunt the next target, liked that she could see ways to stop everyone else knowing what Daisy did to the people who'd done wrong. Daisy liked a lot about Basira. Basira seemed to like Daisy, too, but she didn't show it much, so it was a bit hard to be sure. Most of the time, they were happy as hunting partners, and that's what really mattered. When she was with Basira, Daisy felt like pack was people who know each other to the deepest depths of each of their hearts. Sometimes, though, it felt like Basira knew too much, and Daisy nowhere near enough.

Basira was pack for a long time. Still is, really. They'd been closer in the past, but since the coffin she's seemed distant to Daisy. Daisy's been distant too, so she can't really blame her very much. She's still pack though, probably, even if Daisy isn't quite sure that they knew each other all that well in the first place.

Even though Daisy and Basira have been distant since the coffin, Jon has always been right there. She hadn't thought of him as pack when they first met, quite the opposite. She'd thought of him as prey. Still, he'd trusted her, and he'd pulled her out of that horrible crushing hellscape which had held her captive for those eight long months. She is grateful for that, grateful to have someone who trusts her, who knows what the prison of crushing earth had been like, who feels the same hunger as her and who could help her resist.

She knows now that thinking of him as pack is dangerous, that by defining her relationships that way can only lead her further into the crushing jaws of the Hunt. Nevertheless (his fancy talk is even starting to rub off on her), she can't help but count him as one of her own. That's what pack is, she thinks, people who understand each other's struggles and can be together in pain.

Jon talks about Martin, sometimes. As they help tease out the knots in each other's hair, constantly matted due to never taking care of themselves, he tells her stories of when they were first in the archives. Sometimes he can't think of anything good to say, and Daisy puts the Archers on for them to listen to before he starts to spiral into self loathing again. Even through all of Jon's stories, Daisy never talks about Basira. It feels rude, seeing as she's right there, and besides; they don't have as many good memories as Daisy always thinks they do.

Sometimes they don't talk, don't listen to anything, don't do much at all. They just lie on the floor curled up together, in the middle of Jon's office, trying to stave off the hunger. Being together helps. Basira doesn't really like it when they do that, says they aren't being "useful" enough, but Daisy just gives her a look, and she leaves them alone.

She's not exactly happy, but anything is better than how it used to be. Jon knows her, probably even Knows her, and she knows him. They understand each other. It's just them against the world now. She is someone who is like him, and he is someone who is like her. It's nice. It's pack.

Chapter Text

Then, the other Hunters come. The attack is sudden, and they are extremely ill-equipped to deal with anything anywhere near this scale. So, Daisy does what she thinks she does best. She protects her pack.

The transformation hurts. Her human body splits open, like a flower bud, revealing the beautiful petals and patterns within. Only, there are no petals. Just her, finally in the form she's always needed to be in. She just needs to protect her pack. There is nothing else.

Hunt to protect.

Protect to hunt.

Protect. Protect. Protect. Hunt. Protect. Hunt. Protect. Hunt. Hunt.

Hunt. Hunt. Hunt. Hunt.

After the world changes, she sees them again in the incinerator room. She doesn't know it's her pack until she hears her name in a familiar voice.

Basira. Which means, that's Jon with her. Her whole pack, right here. It doesn't feel right, though. She still feels the urge, the need to hunt them, to hurt them for the crimes they've committed. She sees the gun Basira is holding. Hesitates, slowly calls out to them. Asks her pack to join her so she doesn't have to hurt them. Her pack flinches, both of them in unison. That settles it, then. If her pack is scared of her, that means she's failed at protecting them. That means that she is the one that's no longer pack. She is the one who is not like her.

So, she does the only thing she still knows how to do, and attacks.

Jon's blood doesn't feel like blood anymore, more like some kind of ink. The taste hits the back of her throat like a knife through the neck. The pain of turning on one of her own feels like a knife too, but she remembers what she asked Basira to do, and she intends to force her to follow through on that. Jon is trying to pry her teeth out of his leg, Basira shakily raises the gun, and-

Pain, like a burst of fire through her back.

She forces her jaws to open off of Jon's leg in her final few moments of consciousness. She wants to tell her pack that they saved her, saved her from herself. She wants to tell them that she loves them both.

She-

Everything fades to black. There is nothing for Alice Daisy Tonner anymore. No pack, no Hunt, nothing.

She dies happy.