In the background Stiles trips over something, cursing, before piping up, "Take her! Her math takes up the half of the room I could be using to store more Kaiju parts."
"Drifting is.." Lydia pauses, choosing a word with carefully pursed lips, "Irrational."
"Lydia," Allison is desperate, she has to get back in the fight, she has to do something, "I believe you. I believe more of the Kaiju are coming. And more. Until we're all dead. And I'm not going to stand around and let that happen. You and I both know the Wall is going to be nothing more than tin foil to the stuff that comes out next."
Allison needs this, since losing her mother she's been trying to find a single partner who could be drift-compatible. Scott and Isaac had tried to help her, but they didn't have time to help her what with their own Jaeger to run and the constant travel. She had put off asking Lydia for a month, trying the drift with every recruit who could match her. But the burden of her memories is something no seems able to bear. At times, she can feel the pain, her mother's pain, even when she's not drifting like some terrible scar that's been left behind.
Lydia looks at her, but the gaze lasts only a second before she glances away, "I'll only try once."
Stepping into Lydia's mind is more comfortable than even her mother's had been. When she and her mother fought the Kaiju, they were bonded, they were close. But they also knew every shortcoming they saw in the other, they felt every argument as an instantaneous burst of comprehension. Nothing was resolved, it was merely understood.
She can feel the sting of loneliness that tints Lydia's childhood, the aching comfort of admiration, the perfect brightness of Lydia, every memory laid bare even the briefest flash before silence of true drifting feels the same. Crisp, detailed, pain is catalogued and removed, happiness is as well. Lydia's control makes Allison's own ever stronger current of grief and fear feel manageable.
Scott and Isaac work as tethers for each other, where Isaac can get lost in grief, Scott gets lost in every bright and shining moment of happiness. They work as counterbalances. This is never how Allison worked. When she is in a neural handshake, she is side by side. It is Lydia's very presence in her mind that keeps her from chasing the rabbit of her past. Lydia, for all her pointed looks and slivered smiles has never treated Allison like a fool, never acted like she must lift Allison up. They merely exist together for a time each facing the challenge of remaining focused, together.
With Lydia with her, inside of her, for the first time since her mother's death she feels like humankind might just have a chance.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2013-07-23 06:43 am (UTC)"I'm a scientist, I don't drift."
Allison grabs her hand, "Lydia, I need you."
In the background Stiles trips over something, cursing, before piping up, "Take her! Her math takes up the half of the room I could be using to store more Kaiju parts."
"Drifting is.." Lydia pauses, choosing a word with carefully pursed lips, "Irrational."
"Lydia," Allison is desperate, she has to get back in the fight, she has to do something, "I believe you. I believe more of the Kaiju are coming. And more. Until we're all dead. And I'm not going to stand around and let that happen. You and I both know the Wall is going to be nothing more than tin foil to the stuff that comes out next."
Allison needs this, since losing her mother she's been trying to find a single partner who could be drift-compatible. Scott and Isaac had tried to help her, but they didn't have time to help her what with their own Jaeger to run and the constant travel. She had put off asking Lydia for a month, trying the drift with every recruit who could match her. But the burden of her memories is something no seems able to bear. At times, she can feel the pain, her mother's pain, even when she's not drifting like some terrible scar that's been left behind.
Lydia looks at her, but the gaze lasts only a second before she glances away, "I'll only try once."
"Thank you," Allison breathes, "Thank you, thank you."
------------------------
Stepping into Lydia's mind is more comfortable than even her mother's had been. When she and her mother fought the Kaiju, they were bonded, they were close. But they also knew every shortcoming they saw in the other, they felt every argument as an instantaneous burst of comprehension. Nothing was resolved, it was merely understood.
She can feel the sting of loneliness that tints Lydia's childhood, the aching comfort of admiration, the perfect brightness of Lydia, every memory laid bare even the briefest flash before silence of true drifting feels the same. Crisp, detailed, pain is catalogued and removed, happiness is as well. Lydia's control makes Allison's own ever stronger current of grief and fear feel manageable.
Scott and Isaac work as tethers for each other, where Isaac can get lost in grief, Scott gets lost in every bright and shining moment of happiness. They work as counterbalances. This is never how Allison worked. When she is in a neural handshake, she is side by side. It is Lydia's very presence in her mind that keeps her from chasing the rabbit of her past. Lydia, for all her pointed looks and slivered smiles has never treated Allison like a fool, never acted like she must lift Allison up. They merely exist together for a time each facing the challenge of remaining focused, together.
With Lydia with her, inside of her, for the first time since her mother's death she feels like humankind might just have a chance.