end of a journey.
where:Ā ashlyn bailey's house. when:Ā in the far, far future. who:Ā ashlyn bailey & allison argent.
AshlynĀ wasn't hurting. She knew that blood was pumping out of her body steadily, quickly. She was a surgeon-- she knew exactly which artery was hit, she could estimate just how long she'd still be awake until she would drift off to sleep; Sleep she'd never awake of. Half an hour. Maybe less. She hadn't called anyone-- she couldn't move. Despite her gift, despite her powers, she was still mundane-- she was still weak, human. She had fallen the second the bullet hit her body, tore through skin and flesh and artery and bone. She had hit the ground and had watched the man run away with her wallet and her jewelry box. Ashlyn knew it wasn't the real jewelry-- just a part of her belongings. How ironic. Blood was pushing out of her, lacking of any barrier, anything to hold it back-- for about two thousand dollars. Much less, probably. Her life was worth two thousand dollars. She couldn't help but smile over this one-- in her dying moments, she was smiling over irony. It wasn't like the time she had taken pills-- the time that Apollo had tricked her, the time she had to restart her brain to not lose her sanity. This was real. And Ashlyn welcomed it-- hadn't this been a long time coming? It probably had. She heard something outside-- the familiar sound of sirens; Had the police been called? Part of her prayed that anyone but Allison would find her-- but the other part wished to see her; because Allison would know. She'd tell the right people. She'd understand-- she always understood. The door opened and Ashlyn tried to look, tried to move, but she couldn't. She needed all her strength to push her palm against her open wound.
AllisonĀ wasn't supposed to be working. Scott sometimes joked she was married to her job, not him. She always rolled her eyes. She had been thirty three when she was made Sheriff, holding the position for over fifteen years now. Her children had grown, freed from the nest. Both at college. That was why she took the extra shifts, she told Scott, tapping a bill. Allison did the bills in the house. The call had come through whilst she got ready to go home that night. A break in. Gun shots heard. But it was the address that sent a chill down Allison's spine. She was no banshee, but she could feel death lingering, teasing her. It was a familiar. As if she had seen it in a dream or visited it a long time ago. But even as she drove over, sirens blazing and taking the twisty turns on the road, swearing when she learnt back up would be a long time coming, the pieces didn't slot into place. Not until Allison kicked the door down, gun out. There was a shelf next to it, filled with photos. Even in the dim moonlight, Allison could make out their youthful smiles. A graduation. A little child. An aging alpha. A blonde whose hair was slowly fading to white. Ashlyn. Allison tucked away the gun. The intruder was long gone. Hunter's instinct. Even as her aging limbs slowed her down, she took the stairs two at a time, opening the door she knew lead to the master bedroom. Allison was not a woman easily shocked, but watching the woman she had known for over thirty years lie in a pool of her blood was a shock. Immediately, Allison looked around for something to staunch the blood, grabbing a robe. "Ashlyn, hey, it's me. Can you hear me?" Her eyes were alert, she thought, but misty. Scooping up the blonde, she laid her onto her lap, applying pressure with one hand. "We need an ambulance here. Now." She snapped, her voice filled with worry. "Hey, hey it's okay." It wasn't. Ashlyn had to know that, she was the expert here.
AshlynĀ sighed when Allison came in-- she hadn't been crying before, but seeing Allison Argent walk into her door when she was on the edge of dying was too much-- too much for her. Probably too much for both of them. She could hear Allison-- her hearing was starting to get wonky, just like her sight, but she was going to get worse. So she had to concentrate now-- one last time. One very, very last time. "Allison.", she whispered, eyes focusing on the face of the brunette in front of her-- she couldn't feel Allison pushing something over her wound. The only thing she felt was relief as she could take away her hand. The pressure had exhausted her. "Allison.", she repeated, lips parting as she inhaled deeply-- she had no time. No time. "Don't-- don't let them-- them see me like this. Nobody. Nobody.... can see me.. like this.", she whispered, words barely passing the barrier of her lips-- she tried, she did her best. "No blood. Don't-- don't let anyone.. anyone see the blood, Allison, please.", she whimpered, tears wandering down her cheeks. She hadn't cried in so long. "Tell-- tell Cora first.", she added. Ashlyn heard men and women walking in and out, shouting things, saying things-- policemen, because a medic would have already touched her. "Cora.. first.", she repeated, unable to remember whether she already said that.
AllisonĀ bit down her on her tongue, choking down the tears. It had been thirty years since her father died in her arms and she would be damned if she let someone else. Not someone who had been through so much. Allison never knew the full details of what happened to Ashlyn the night Prometheus died, but looking into her eyes, she could see it was one of the scars that blemished her soul. Weren't all their souls scarred? Allison knew that if the worst...if she ambulance shouldn't come...there was so much blood...Ashlyn had to die in peace. She had to die happy. Her mind would have jumped to Cora first anyway. They were often pictured together. Allison had threatened to arrest a teenager who made a comment about them once. After Alexander. Technically he was supposed to know first - but exceptions could be made. She nodded. "I will." She promised, exerting more pressure and hoping the pain wasn't unbearable. "I'm sorry, I can't take your pain." She wished Scott had been here. Or any werewolf. "But it's not going to come to that. It will be okay." She didn't believe her own words, how could she? No one survived from losing this much blood. And it was everywhere. But even if she had to scrub it out herself to keep her promise she would. "Just keep breathing." She whispered, desperately searching for the sound of sirens.
AshlynĀ nodded in relief as Allison agreed-- Cora had to know first. It was the only way things were right. Her heart was beating slower, as Ashlyn noticed. She managed to lift one hand and push it over her heart counting the beats. She couldn't remember where she stopped out of the sudden, looking at Allison when the woman spoke. "I'm not in pain.", she breathed, lips curling into a warm, deep smile. Ashlyn tasted metal in her mouth-- blood. She couldn't remember where it came from-- shouldn't she know? She of all people-- shouldn't she know? "Allison.", she whispered, laying her hand over the other woman's hand, the one applying pressure to her wound. "I have no will.", she whispered. "--Please-- please will you do a few-- a few things for me? Nobody else can, Allison. Please." Talking hurt-- but not because of the wound. Her throat hurt, sore from the tears that she had cried and the ones that she held back to not hurt her friend more than necessary. "T-tell them I want to be with Tessa. I-- want to be next to her." Ashlyn had never thought about this before-- but it sounded so right in that moment. As if this was the place she belonged.
AllisonĀ couldn't help but panic as she saw Ashlyn's hand go to her heart. Wanting to distract her, she took it away, enclosing it with her own and letting it rest gently against the brunette, a sign of comfort. She refused to acknowledge the inevitability that Ashlyn might die. Not until she had truly departed the world. She hoped there was something better on the other side, for Ashlyn's sake. She deserved to ride the stars at night with her wings. Of course she didn't have a will. She was so young. No one could have - no. She wouldn't think of that possibility. "Of course." it went without saying. She would do anything for her in this moment. And the look on relief on the blonde's face...it tore through her heart. At Tessa's name, Allison's heart skipped a bit. She had almost forgotten about the brunette. Almost. Her second child's middle name was Tessa, in remembrance. The two girls who had fought with everything they had, reunited at last. She nodded, speaking the words so Ashlyn could be sure. "Okay."
AshlynĀ nodded in sheer relief, her heart beating slower and slower. She wanted to think about what would await her-- but she couldn't. She couldn't possibly begin to fathom what was waiting on the other side. In Tartaros. She had never killed-- at last, Ashlyn could accept that she was no murderer, despite what her younger self had always thought. She might get a good place-- she hoped so. "My-- my grandmother's-- her journals. Send them to Delphine-- All seven of them. They-- they should go to her.", she breathed, eyes closing as Ashlyn had to think-- she had to think about everything. "My--my money. It's in-- in two accounts. One here-- one in Britain, it's my father's-- my father's heritage. I never touched it. Add it up, divide it by four. Give Helen's and John's kids and-- and Lizzy and Michael. Give them each one part of it." Ashlyn had no children of her own. She never wanted children-- but in this very moment, in this moment she wished she had for the first time in her life. She had held each child of her friends-- she had played with them, cuddled them, but each time she had been happy to give them back, because they were free of the curse that she had been given. Of the gift-- the burden. All they knew was Aunt Ash-- never did they know her dark side. And that was good. Her eyes slowly, but surely started to get... lifeless. Ash was still here but-- she couldn't begin to say how much longer. "Tell-- tell them I wasn't in pain. Okay?", she breathed and then-- then she looked at the brunette, looked /truly/ into her eyes, into her very soul. "I--", she started-- and Ashlyn lost what she wanted to say. Her lips were warted as she looked up to Allison, her lower lip shivering in pain and-- and fear. "I'm--", she started again-- "scared."
AllisonĀ kept nodding, aware that the her friend was slowly starting to slip away from the world of living. You could see it in her eyes. But she wasn't gone yet. Allison kept making mental notes of what Ashlyn wanted in her mind - determined not to let anything slip past. She would ensure that the seer got everything she wanted, even after she ceased to belong to this world. "Journals. Money. I'll remember." She winced when Ashlyn asked her to lie - to say she wasn't in pain. She was bleeding to death, it was slow, it had to come with momentous pain. But lying for the comfort of others was a sin she could stomach. "Okay." She reassured her. There was no point in holding pressure down on the wound anymore. It was too late. Allison didn't have to be a seer or a banshee to see that. Instead, she gripped the blonde's light body, pulling her up closer to Allison. Everyone should die with someone who cares about them. She gripped her hands even tighter. Tucking a strand of hair behind Ashlyn's ear, she tried to smile. "I know." She had to send her off in peace, with happiness. "But very soon, you're not going to be alone any more. You're going to see everyone we ever loved. You'll see your parents. And...Tessa. And one day, if you're very patient, you'll see us. We're all going to be reunited. And then we'll find peace. Maybe we'll still talk. Maybe we won't be able to. Maybe we'll form life itself. We'll be the wind and the sunshine, a leaf dropping off a tree in fall, a star that shines down. We're going to be eternal. And you will be remembered, Ashlyn Bailey, as the girl who fought so hard. The girl who saw life itself for what it truly was, the past, present and future. I will never forget about you. No one will. So don't be scared. They say death is just the next stage in our journey. Try to hold onto that." A tear splashed down onto the blonde.
AshlynĀ nodded-- she couldn't remember what else was there to do. But they'd figure it out. They always figured it all out. Things would be okay-- they would be okay without her. They'd go on without the seer and Ashlyn was so, so happy about that. She didn't want them to cry, didn't want them to suffer. This-- this was /after/. After pain, after suffering. This was okay, this was-- this was good. Ashlyn knew it was too late, before Allison took away her hand-- she knew it was over long before that, but knowing that Allison had accepted it was hard. She was scared-- she knew this was the right moment, the right time, the second things were supposed to be over; The gift, the curse was supposed to be done. She was supposed to die-- but still, she was so-- so scared. But Allison held her. She had never thought she'd die in the arms of Allison Argent, but Ash was so happy that she did in this moment. She listened-- she couldn't answer, couldn't find words anymore. But she listened. She'd be with her parents. With her grandmother-- with Tessa and Ethan, the Alpha werewolf almost nobody liked, but she had loved like a brother. She'd maybe meet Micah, the Minotaur-- and she'd listen to his story. She'd meet all the seers before her-- and she'd have no visions anymore. No fear. No responsibilities. And she'd wait for the others to arrive and-- and then nothing would ever be able to hurt them. Nothing. Ashlyn looked up into the eyes of Allison Argent and she stopped crying. She couldn't cry anymore as she looked into her friend's eyes. She wanted to say something, wanted to let her know she understood. Ashlyn Bailey nodded-- almost not noticeable, but she did. And then-- then she died. She stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating-- but this wasn't the end.
When Ashlyn Bailey, the very last seer of Apollo, descendant of Cassandra, looked up and took the hand of Charon, the ferryman of Hades, she knew that her journey wasn't over. It had merely just begun.












