[ Allison's mouth forms into a thin line, coming to a slow crawl before turning into the driveway of the house she shares with Malia and Stiles. She doesn't think either of them are at home; Malia has school and Stiles has his own job. It's probably for the best, she can warn them about Lydia when they get home.
She sits for a moment at Lydia's accusation. There's no good answer for that — it's not wrong, but it's not entirely right, either. She's still, technically, dead. But she's still living, breathing, has been since she woke up in that tank covered in space goo. She swallows, looks at Lydia. ] I was. I'm not anymore. I promise, I'll explain, but I need to get you inside and find you some clothes.
[ She doesn't wait for an answer, instead climbing out of the car and heading back around to Lydia's side, opening up the door and collecting her. ]
no subject
She sits for a moment at Lydia's accusation. There's no good answer for that — it's not wrong, but it's not entirely right, either. She's still, technically, dead. But she's still living, breathing, has been since she woke up in that tank covered in space goo. She swallows, looks at Lydia. ] I was. I'm not anymore. I promise, I'll explain, but I need to get you inside and find you some clothes.
[ She doesn't wait for an answer, instead climbing out of the car and heading back around to Lydia's side, opening up the door and collecting her. ]