Allison can't miss it. Doesn't. Because that's the point, too.
The Icarus was horrific. The fact their planet was on a paused-for-universal-kidnapping state, while billions of people and her daughter was either dead, dying, or about to be, was all horrific. There was no denying that. Just like there was no denying the whole family was, in one or another way, on pins and needles about how Vanya was, and how each of them had treated her at some point by the time to moon was crashing into the world, or within the short month of getting here.
Allison didn't hold herself hostage to some vanity that she wasn't one of them either. She'd tried worse than all of them in the cabin that night. And, worse than that, she'd stood there. On that stage. Even after denying Luther at every turn. Every time. Tried to fight him until she'd collapsed in the basement. Hit him with her notepad several times every time they all kept saying Vanya's life didn't matter anymore in the equation. Kept saying no right up until that very end.
And she'd still stood there, in the end, arm out and tears falling, with a gun pointed at the point-blank back of her sister's head. She'd done that. Even after all of her no, no, no, no.
No one is innocent in any of this. (Except the other billion people on the planet they all failed to save.) Allison tilted her head, letting the whisper lay where it was. Complicated and barely acknowledged, barely said. Head tipping as she raised her glass while sending her response.
Then we don't to have to discuss what Luther wants right now. This is about you. If you think you want that, or something like it, and you think you can handle it, then I think you should at least try.
no subject
The Icarus was horrific. The fact their planet was on a paused-for-universal-kidnapping state, while billions of people and her daughter was either dead, dying, or about to be, was all horrific. There was no denying that. Just like there was no denying the whole family was, in one or another way, on pins and needles about how Vanya was, and how each of them had treated her at some point by the time to moon was crashing into the world, or within the short month of getting here.
Allison didn't hold herself hostage to some vanity that she wasn't one of them either. She'd tried worse than all of them in the cabin that night. And, worse than that, she'd stood there. On that stage. Even after denying Luther at every turn. Every time. Tried to fight him until she'd collapsed in the basement. Hit him with her notepad several times every time they all kept saying Vanya's life didn't matter anymore in the equation. Kept saying no right up until that very end.
And she'd still stood there, in the end, arm out and tears falling,
with a gun pointed at the point-blank back of her sister's head.
She'd done that. Even after all of her no, no, no, no.
No one is innocent in any of this. (Except the other billion people on the planet they all failed to save.) Allison tilted her head, letting the whisper lay where it was. Complicated and barely acknowledged, barely said. Head tipping as she raised her glass while sending her response.
Then we don't to have to discuss what Luther wants right now. This is about you. If you think you want that, or something like it, and you think you can handle it, then I think you should at least try.