[ How many times could he say those words between when she woke up on that surgical table and whenever she finally passed out again? Was it supposed to somehow feel less cold each time? Was she supposed to somehow believe it more, each time, when another thing, required another apology, appeared only another few hours after each earlier one?
But if the cold hurts, digs claws into that darkness in her chest raw and deep, Allison has always been exquisitely good with turning hurt into a razor. ]
Not good enough.
[ It's hot and it's cold, sharp as it is merciless, and she doesn't regret that one.
He put her on that stage, with a gun to Vanya's head. He put her on that stage, with Vanya collapsed in her lap. He ignored her. He refused her. Then, lied to her and used her.]
Not any of you.
'Willing to do whatever it takes.' You all almost died for your stupidity.
[ In that she is angry at all of her brothers. Every single one except Ben. For being willing to do whatever it took, and meaning what that meant without being willing to say, even as they judged their own sister's life as less than a world. For not fighting back. For falling in line right behind Luther. Floating out in the air, dying, over the seats, together. And Allison.
Allison picked her -- believing in Vanya, believing Vanya was still in there -- over everyone. Everything.
no subject
But if the cold hurts, digs claws into that darkness in her chest raw and deep,
Allison has always been exquisitely good with turning hurt into a razor. ]
Not good enough.
[ It's hot and it's cold,
sharp as it is merciless,
and she doesn't regret that one.
He put her on that stage, with a gun to Vanya's head.
He put her on that stage, with Vanya collapsed in her lap.
He ignored her. He refused her. Then, lied to her and used her.]
Not any of you.
'Willing to do whatever it takes.'
You all almost died for your stupidity.
[ In that she is angry at all of her brothers. Every single one except Ben. For being willing to do whatever it took, and meaning what that meant without being willing to say, even as they judged their own sister's life as less than a world. For not fighting back. For falling in line right behind Luther. Floating out in the air, dying, over the seats, together. And Allison.
Allison picked her -- believing in Vanya, believing Vanya was still in there -- over everyone. Everything.
All of them.
Luther.
Her voice.
Her health.
Her powers.
Billions of lives.