thepicketfencecliche | canon au } { post-609, of hellhounds and trials by fire

Laura: [and while everyone is causing all kids of chaos inside, Laura is going to slip through the train station to the portal, trying to see if she can get the hound's attention, but not alarm him] Do you remember me?

Parrish: [is going to turn and face her, snarling] You do best to move away, Laura Hale.

Laura: I'm not trying to get through you. I know better. [she's not going to wind up crispy like her uncle, when the people who know how to fix it are stuck here with her] I just wanted to see how much of this is you and how much is him.

Parrish: You already know the answer. [because those eyes staring at her hold nothing of Parrish in them]

Laura: No. Not Jordan. [and she turns and points to the entrance to the station where the lowenmesch is ordering everyone to their seats] I meant him.

Parrish: The riders are my master.

Laura: He's not a rider. Not a true rider. He stole the power he has now by killing one of your riders.

Parrish: Riders are not born, are made. He made himself.

Laura: I know how riders are made. They're taken from towns like mine and held and drained and changed until there's nothing left of the person they used to be. Then they ride the lightning and storms until they need more riders and they do what's best for the collective, not themselves. [she glances back towards the tunnel] That lowenmensch is going to use your riders to take the world. City by city, town by town, until the entire world is a rider under his control. That's not balance. That's not what you were put in Beacon Hills to protect.

Parrish: The nemeton called me to do that. The nemeton is not my master.

Laura: Does that make it any less valid? You're supposed to protect the supernatural, not be a lap dog for a psychopath. Someone has to draw the line here, or he's going to destroy everything in his search for power - including your daughter.

Parrish: [growls] He is my master. You do best to silence your tongue.

Laura: No. I won't. Because you are the only thing that actually has a chance of standing in his way, and I am not going to give up because someone needs to fight for Amelia. Jordan can't. [she's practically pleading with him] And you know I'm right about him.

Parrish: You or that child are no longer my concern. [and he is going to snarl and take a step forward threateningly]

Laura: [doesn't back up and stands her ground, arms crossed in front of her chest] Is the banshee?

Parrish: No longer my concern.

Laura: Isn't she? Because he sent riders to kill her, and they couldn't. So it seems to me, that she's a pretty high priority. Especially since I remember how you protected her from Valek.

Parrish: No longer my concern.

Laura: Then what are you concerned about? Because again, this is still just making you look like a lap dog. Does he give you a nice belly rub if you roll over?

Parrish: [and he is going to snarl and flare up, taking another step forward] Sit down.

Laura: No. [and she still stands her ground, because she has to get her boyfriend back somehow and this might be the only way.]

Parrish: [the hound isn't going to stop, and he will put himself to her, his flames starting to lick at her clothing and flesh]

Laura: [it's hot. and it definitely hurts. but she tries not to flinch and just continues to stare him down, playing literally the worst game of chicken ever. and she rolled a fairly high will save, so she's going to try and hold out as long as she can]

Peter: [but yeah, someone else can't stand to watch it and he's going to break off from the crowd, face shifted and howl to get the hellhound's attention. Because Laura getting burnt to a crisp is not a good plan]

Laura: [yeah, she knows exactly who it is and she shakes her head] Peter, no.

Peter: Get away from him, Laura. That isn't your deputy anymore. You tried.

Laura: That doesn't mean we still don't have an understanding. [there's a pause, before taking one small step back, but she still doesn't go to sit. that concession was more for Peter than it was for the hound, and that much is clear on her face] I know what you are and I know what you're capable of. I knew from our first conversation when you made it all to clear that I don't belong in the world, and you're right. I don't. But you left me alone, not because of Jordan, but because you knew that I wasn't a threat big enough to harm what you were supposed to protect. [there's another beat as some of the pain from the burns that are healing, but slowly, start to show on her face] Just because he's your master doesn't mean he's good for you - or for your purpose. And bad masters deserve to be put down.

Parrish: That is not my decision to make. I am to serve.

Laura: If not your call, then who's? You're the one who has to serve him. Who has to live with the things he makes you do. Who he makes you hurt. The true alpha, the banshee, me? Where are you going to draw the line?

Parrish: This discussion is done.

Laura: Fine. But I'm still not sitting down.

Parrish: [and he will snarl and go back to his spot]

Peter: [looking at her in concern] Are you okay?

Laura: Not really. [she just watches him go, crossing her arms in front of her chest and trying not to buckle] But I'm not giving up yet.

Peter: We'll get him back somehow. He just has no control over his actions.

Laura: Only because he doesn't want it. [glances away to Peter for a moment] If this asshole goes after Lydia, maybe that'll change, but we won't know until then. Either way, the riders always defer to the Morrigan and he knows it.

Peter: Until she shows up though, I'd prefer not to have to worry about you getting set on fire by your lover.

Laura: [sighs and looks down at the burns that are healing, but slowly] Sorry.

Peter: [he gently puts a hand on her shoulder] Don't be sorry. Just look for a better opportunity.

Laura: [she nods and turns her attention back to the hound again, just staying steadily on her feet as best she can]

Parrish: [and the hound is ignoring her, watching over the group once again]

Laura: [that's fine. she'll just keep watching him, because what else is there to do in here, unless someone is going to force her to sit]