vanillajello | Overland Park, KS, Early Wednesday Evening

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Overland Park, KS, Early Wednesday Evening

It was kind of funny how weirdness never stopped being weird, no matter how much you were exposed to different types of it.

Kate had felt weird since the complete disaster that was Monday night. She'd felt weird through Tuesday's family breakfast, and the stuff they did during the day, and the dinner with the gay neighbors and Charmaine and Nick (which Kate and Marshall and Bod hadn't even attended), and through whatever random crap they'd done today. She could barely remember. It was all kind of hazy. But at least she was pretty sure she'd kept her inner confusion hidden pretty well, for the most part.

She hadn't spent all that much time actually alone with Bod, though. That could've led to talking and she didn't want to do that, so she didn't.

And tomorrow, they'd be back in Fandom. Some other kind of weirdness would take this weirdness' place and this would be forgotten. Hopefully.

Right now, though, they were still in Overland Park. Kate was lying on her stomach on her brother's bed with Bod sitting beside her, Marshall's latest yearbook from glamorous Butterworth Senior High open in front of her, and a black marker in her hand. Marshall himself was currently standing on his bed on Kate's other side, fixing a lamp he had hanging from his ceiling.

Kate drew horns on some random freshman's picture and blacked out his eyes. "I don't miss any of these people."

[For the boooy. NFB due to distance, contains stuff nabbed from USoT S02E01 'Yes'. ETA: Warning for discussion of suicide.]

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Bod didn't know if no answer was good or bad. He didn't know what was going on right now. His mind was getting weighted down with his own emotional reaction to this and he could barely think.

"You are the most important person in the world to me and I've had to watch you pretend I don't exist for two days, Kate. I've been an afterthought or a grudging addition to whatever might be going on. I don't know why. You won't talk to me. I'm stuck thinking you just don't want me anymore because we had a night where things went wrong. I thought I was giving you what you wanted that night. You didn't -- "

He stopped talking just so he could get a breath and reorder his thoughts. Everything was coming out now that she couldn't really ignore him. "All I was trying to do was to help you. It didn't work how I wanted it to work but my intentions were good. I just wanted to help you. I just wanted you to feel better. And this is what I'm getting for it."

After he'd gotten about halfway through what he wanted to say, Kate could barely even hear him. She was just trying so hard to stay impassive, cold, distant, anything to keep her from just collapsing on the floor.

But her defences, hard as they were, couldn't stand the weight of all of that.

The knuckles on her hand that held on to one of the closet doors were white from gripping it so hard, and she shuddered with a quiet sob.

This time, Bod did hear her and he stopped talking almost immediately. Any other day, he might have stepped closer to try and hold her and comfort but he was still raw from the past few days and felt wariness and hurt of his own. He stayed still.

"Kate, talk to me," he said, softening his voice, at least. "Tell me something. Tell me anything."

She'd cried so much around him or because of him lately and it was just scraping him raw and making him ache even more that he couldn't just soothe it all away.

Kate leaned against the closet door a little more heavily. She was still standing, almost steadily, but... Maybe her legs would buckle from under her. Maybe she'd topple over straight into the closet. She didn't know.

There was so much she didn't know.

Her voice sounded strangled and teary, and weak. And she hated that. "I don't know what to say."

Everything had gone way too far, and she wanted to take it all back, she really did, but she didn't think that was possible. And if she'd been pushing him away for two days was it too late to let him back in, anyway? Or would she let him back in only to do this to him again? And to herself? Was it worth it? Should she just keep pushing?

She didn't know. She didn't know anything.

Bod rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, still trying to keep a rein on his feelings and on the reactions that wanted to lash out and be known. He wasn't going to do that though.

"You need to find something," he finally said, shaking his head, "because I'm doubting you right now. I'm sorry but I am. I don't want to but I don't know what else to do. I don't know what you'll have me do. You're shrugging me off carelessly and you might not even love me anymore. You don't want to be alone with me and I'm beginning to wonder if you're scared of me. Maybe you do think I'm a monster. I need to know. I want to fix this but I can't keep doing it on my own."

"I do love you!"

Kate? Kate could do some lashing out for them both, mustering up some anger at the suggestion that she didn't. She knew why he'd think that, though, because she'd made him think that, and that hurt, and just made her more angry. At herself, really, but he was there and talking so he got to be the target anyway.

And she was still staring into the closet, still hanging on to the edge of that door. Didn't even see it: her vision was blurry from tears. And the spike of frustrated anger had dissolved already when she continued.

"And you're not a fucking monster."

The anger was almost welcome after two days of either being ignored or being talked to as an afterthought. At least that told him she was still in there.

"I love you too!" he said, not quite shouting it but saying it with enough feeling that she'd know he wasn't just replying to reply. "And I want to be with you! Kate, I want to fix this. I want to hold you again and I want to feel your heartbeat. Please."

He wasn't going to rise and match her momentary anger though. He didn't want to spiral the situation away from the original issues.

"So, please. Just...tell me something. I know you know. You have to know if you just said that. Please."

Kate's head turned some, but not enough for her to actually see him. Maybe just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her wet cheek. The tears hadn't stopped.

"I don't know, okay?" she hissed, but it sounded a little more tired than her previous outburst. "We fucked up and I don't know! I don't know how to fix this!"

Never had to deal with love like this before. Or whatever this was really all about.

Something about that made his stomach turn and he felt the momentary urge that he was about to get sick.

"I'm sorry." Maybe that could be a start. "I'm so sorry for what happened, Kate. You have to know I had the best of intentions and it just didn't happen the way I wanted it to. We've both been through so much lately, I think we just took it out on each other."

In a way that they shouldn't have. "It was -- it was something we shouldn't have done. And I'm sorry."

"Well I know that!" They shouldn't have done it. Really shouldn't have, and they had two days worth of tension to prove it. "And it is not your fault."

Had to say it, mildly angry as it was. It wasn't as if she hadn't come close to begging for him to do what he eventually did. He'd given her exactly what she'd thought she wanted.

Not his fault it was the wrong thing to do.

That quieted him for a moment. His hands hung loosely at his sides and he had to reach deep to keep himself motivated and determined to see this through.

"It's no one's fault," he agreed after a moment, "but I still participated and I'm still sorry. And I want you to forgive me because you do love me."

He was inches from just laying his heart out there but he kept it close for the moment. "If you can't forgive me, well, then I'll deal with that. You know what I think about that night. Maybe you should tell me what's been going on in your mind."

"There's nothing to forgive," she replied, a little more quietly. "We fucked up. I already said it. We fucked up."

She should've probably said she was sorry too. She wanted to, she did. But it just wasn't coming out, not right now.

Probably because she thought she had so much more to be sorry for than he did.

"Then, why are you pushing me away like you've been doing for the past two days?" he asked in a clipped, short tone. There were limits to his calm and he was very close to reaching them.

"We made a mistake and I want to move past it. I want to be with you," he reiterated. "Do you want something different? Do you want me to just stay away from you?"

"No, I..." And there went her voice with the breaking again. If it was possible for her poor bare shoulders to get any tenser, that's what they did now. "I just... I didn't know what the fuck I should say after that."

So she'd ignored it, and pretended.

"And that didn't work." Considering where they were now, it was an obvious statement but he didn't care. He was quiet again, staring at her tense shoulders and her back and frowned.

"Kate, I saw a girl set herself on fire," he blurted out, unable to stop his heart from unraveling those secrets. "She was a child and she set herself on fire right in front of my eyes. Every night, I see that. Every single night."

He paused and had to swallow past the lump in his throat. "What we did wasn't what we should have done but that wasn't us who thinks clearly. That was trauma and damage and months worth of horrific things. That was two people who weren't themselves for one night. That wasn't us. That wasn't the me that loves you. That wasn't the you that loves me. That was the me that didn't want to think about a girl setting herself on fire. That was the you that didn't want to think about waiting or seeing dead bodies all around her. It was one mistake and it wasn't us."

Her eyes were on him from about the first instance of the word fire. Her red, teary eyes fixed on him over her shoulder as she listened to him saying all of that.

And once he'd stopped, she wanted to say something, and even opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

She looked just about ready to collapse, now. But at least she wasn't hiding anything. All the pain was right there on her tear-streaked face.

Edited 2010-08-26 16:27 (UTC)

It was there and he was seeing it and it was incredibly difficult to see. He didn't turn away though. He kept looking at her, kept trying.

"I don't want one mistake to haunt us," he said, quieter now. "It was one mistake and it shows that we're human. We weren't thinking clearly and it happened on a night after a traumatic event. After months of dealing with trauma. I want you to stop pushing me away like I'm not who you want. I want us to forgive ourselves."

And he stopped talking there, just unable to find any more words that he hadn't presented already. Instead, he covered his mouth and looked briefly pained before casting his eyes down at his feet so she couldn't see his hurt.

It didn't matter, she still knew it was there. It still added to hers.

But she broke out of her frozen stance, now. Pushed herself away from the closet door and took unsteady steps towards him, one hand clutching at her towel to keep it up. Her legs felt weak, she felt weak.

Her voice wasn't much better. "I want you to forgive me."

Bod had been a little too focused inwardly to realize she'd come closer so her voice surprised him. He glanced up though and dropped his hand from his face.

"Forgive you for what?" She hadn't let him ask for forgiveness so he had to ask why.

She still felt like she had done more to feel guilty for. Couldn't help it.

"For... trying to push you away."

Kind of felt hard to even admit that was what she'd been doing, and she looked down.

"Do you want to be with me?" he asked. He had to check. After everything, after getting pushed aside, he had to check just for his own peace of mind.

She looked up. "Yes," she said, standing in front of him, feeling about as miserable as she ever had. "I do. I love you."

"I forgive you," he said immediately, nodding. "I forgive you. Don't push me away. Be with me, instead. I love you too. Please."

"Thank you," she breathed, like a complete idiot. At least she felt like one.

That might have been a factor in why, after saying that, she just stood there, awkwardly. It was probably okay to touch him but right now she didn't really know how.

Bod took the initiative there. She was standing there, still wet from her shower, wearing only a towel and looking emotionally wrecked.

Bod reached for her face, cradled her cheeks between his hands and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers, breathing in the smell of soap and water on her skin.

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