There was something almost achingly familiar about all this, the two brothers bickering with one another while Kate sat huddled on the ground, trying to keep her mind from spinning out of control. The brief flicker of hurt-fueled anger, quickly dissipated under the barrage of Seth’s words, his explanation leaving her as winded as he felt.
They were talking like her death was an accepted fact, like her being here wasn’t proof enough that Richie had gotten it wrong. It might have been easier to reject the idea if some things weren’t ringing true. Hadn’t she only just heard about the very blood well that Seth was talking about?
There would have been a time when Kate would have collapsed under the weight of such a revelation, but with the two brothers arguing back and forth as she tried to process all that she’d heard, something closer to anger coiled inside her chest. Her fingers ran over the cool metal of the gun she had with her, unable to find in it, the same comfort she’d felt upon first spying it amongst the pile of clothes.
“Would you both stop talking about me like I’m not even here.” Her voice sounding all the more frightening for the control she managed to maintain. Oh sure, they were addressing her but it felt like she was being spoken at, rather than to most of the time. They talked like she was supposed to understand what they were saying, about Freddie and Carlos and Scott. They acted like she was supposed to know there were gaps in her memory when for Kate there were no memories to be found.
Kate waited for a moment - almost in defiance of being rushed headfirst into something she couldn’t begin to comprehend - before finally trying to get to her feet, a task that was easier said than done whilst trying to hold a sheet against her body and carry a gun at the same time.
“And maybe if you two would stop arguing with each other for more than five seconds, we might be able to figure out what’s going on.” All this as Kate struggled to keep the sheet from falling down. “Are we going or not?”
no subject
They were talking like her death was an accepted fact, like her being here wasn’t proof enough that Richie had gotten it wrong. It might have been easier to reject the idea if some things weren’t ringing true. Hadn’t she only just heard about the very blood well that Seth was talking about?
There would have been a time when Kate would have collapsed under the weight of such a revelation, but with the two brothers arguing back and forth as she tried to process all that she’d heard, something closer to anger coiled inside her chest. Her fingers ran over the cool metal of the gun she had with her, unable to find in it, the same comfort she’d felt upon first spying it amongst the pile of clothes.
“Would you both stop talking about me like I’m not even here.” Her voice sounding all the more frightening for the control she managed to maintain. Oh sure, they were addressing her but it felt like she was being spoken at, rather than to most of the time. They talked like she was supposed to understand what they were saying, about Freddie and Carlos and Scott. They acted like she was supposed to know there were gaps in her memory when for Kate there were no memories to be found.
Kate waited for a moment - almost in defiance of being rushed headfirst into something she couldn’t begin to comprehend - before finally trying to get to her feet, a task that was easier said than done whilst trying to hold a sheet against her body and carry a gun at the same time.
“And maybe if you two would stop arguing with each other for more than five seconds, we might be able to figure out what’s going on.” All this as Kate struggled to keep the sheet from falling down. “Are we going or not?”