𝚂 𝙾 𝚃 𝙴 𝚁 𝙸 𝙰

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝘔𝘠 x𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋'𝘚 x𝘖𝘕 𝘍𝘐𝘙𝘌, x 𝘐'𝘔 x𝘈𝘓𝘓 x𝘖𝘜𝘛 x𝘖𝘍 x𝘖𝘟𝘠𝘎𝘌𝘕

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⸸ ⋅ ────── ⋅ 𝐾𝐴𝑇𝐸 x 𝐴𝑉𝐸𝐷𝑂𝑁 ⋅

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𝘐 𝘑𝘜𝘔𝘗 𝘓𝘐𝘒𝘌 𝘈 𝘚𝘗𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎, xx𝑰 x𝑲𝑰𝑪𝑲 x𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 x 𝑨𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑳

████
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████

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tagging; sebastian
mentioned; collie
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location; cabin
shift; coyote

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Kate had been shoving things haphazardly into the duffel bag laying wide open near the foot of her bed, but her wild, angry speed was dwindling. Her movements stuttered, hesitating at each point as she begun to reassess her actions and look at her plan from the illuminating angle of realism. Was she really going to go home, back onto her parents' couch, just to feel even worse about herself? It wasn't as if her relationship to them was uncomplicated. At the very least, she would end up arguing with her father over every single thing, including her decision to return home. They had never seen eye to eye. Yet what awaited on the other side of her bedroom door, on the other side of the decision to stay, was confronting what she had done. She had been cruel to Collie. Deliberately.
indentindentThe breath deflated from her lungs, a wire-framed shadow of a person, and she stopped halfway between the dresser and the bed, a worn sweater still draped in her hands. She stroked a thumb over a spot where the fabric had given out, the small hole stretching oblique and lined with jutting threads. The shame was taking over. Kate didn't know why she had done it. Sure, she hadn't wanted to hear the words he had said, or to see any of the truth in them, and she had been angry, but it wasn't really the explanation behind any of it. The desire to deeply wound him, to hurt his feelings, had arisen so suddenly, right on the heels of having told him all the things that had needed saying for the longest time.
indentindentIt wasn't the first incident of her having pushed someone away the moment they had shown her any manner of concern, and she could have used all the clawing trauma hanging onto her as an excuse, but Kate knew that she had been like this before, to an extent. The guilt she tried to bury had simply been smaller back then, before she had gone and died in the most unceremonious of ways. Were all things worth surviving? And the thought that she might have simply been born wrong was quick to surface, but the notion hurt, and she had no desire to think that way. People had used it against her back home when they'd found out she was gay, yet it didn't make her special — it seemed more like an unfortunately common rite of passage that had simply made her all the more stubborn about being herself. Another reason not to go back, nonetheless, even if things had somewhat changed.
indentindentShe dropped the sweater onto the bed, and it landed lop-sided over the edge of the bag, a sleeve flopping down like a lifeless limb. George had lain down on her bed in the corner of the room and was watching Kate with her head resting between her paws. The dog was the only living being she wasn't capable of driving away. Sometimes it felt like she was spiraling her way down through emotions, unable to slow down or sit with any one of them, but they were all the same, claws in her back, painful nails piercing and drawing blood. And then she would decide to hurt someone, and couldn't even claim that she hadn't meant to. It all seemed like cowardice, just more running away, avoiding anything that could have meant something. How could she claim that her purpose had been taken away from her when she ducked from everything that could come even close to becoming one?
indentindentIt was hypocritical of her, and there she had stood just the same, accusing Collie of being a hypocrite. What was that saying, about people living in glass houses not throwing stones? Excellent hindsight, Avedon. In spite of her logically knowing that she had been in the wrong, she also knew that if she were to walk out now and try to talk things out with Collie, the anger would reignite, she would only turn on him again, and rub salt into the wound she had made. What was wrong with her? He'd actually been trying to help. The disordered memories of her panic were too mortifying to look at, but he hadn't exactly been the one making a mess out of everything. Maybe it would have been for the best if she had simply given in to her urge to punch him that morning and they'd left it at that. The damage might have been less extensive.

indentindentThe sound of feet making their way up the stairs had Kate tensing. It crossed her mind that it might have been Collie, coming after her to hand her a taste of her own medicine, and like a wounded animal cornered in its den, she could only imagine the fallout of a rematch. She had walked away before he had gotten the chance to defend himself, which had been unfair, and it would have only made sense for him to have wanted to clear the air, regardless of the consequences. It wasn't as if Kate had been particularly considerate of them in the moment. It was Sebastian's voice that turned the tension into a different kind of fear, the fear of being seen for what she was. Her mouth opened to answer but she decided not to say anything, perhaps hoping that he would simply go away, but he announced that he was coming in anyway, and the door opened. Maybe she should have locked it, but a not-insignificant part of her wanted to talk to him about everything that was barreling through her head.
indentindentThe way he looked like a concerned father was alien to Kate. It was the kind of sincerity that had never really been present in her relationship with her actual parents, either of them, and she was torn between giving in to the desire to evade and flee, or to be truthful about what she was going through. She had no doubts about the extent of the comfort Sebastian had to offer, but she was uncertain whether she was ready to receive even an ounce of it. Avoiding his gaze, she looked vaguely somewhere between the floor and the open bag, her face lowered.
indentindentindent"I don't need rescuing," she claimed, her voice lacking force and the words limp. The assertion was pathetic, but frankly, Kate didn't know what she needed. What did she even want?
indentindentBut the suggestion that it had been Collie in the wrong had her raising her eyes, ready to clarify that no, as frustrating as he could be, it was she who had been the jerk, and it seemed that she would perpetually remain the jerk. Despite what she had said and done, some integrity had clearly endured. She pushed her hands through her tousled hair and shrugged at Sebastian's wish to sit on the bed.
indentindentindent"He didn't— I was—" a noise of frustration rose from her throat. She wasn't exactly proud of the cutting words she had conjured, and now it felt all the more difficult to explain exactly what had gone down. "Collie didn't do anything. Or at least he didn't mean to. I said some hurtful things." That was putting it mildly. Her arms flopped down and she circled to the foot of the bed, not quite willing to sit beside Sebastian but finding it strange if she were to talk to his back. "He tried to tell me that I wasn't guilty, but it just made me angry. How could I not be guilty? How is he not guilty?" Her hands cut through the air in a sharp gesture, as if she was assigning blame to invisible figures in the room.
indentindentShe didn't want to address the subject directly, not after what had happened when she had attempted to do so with Collie, but it was clear that Sebastian knew what she had gone through, at least to some extent. Sometimes it felt like there wasn't a person around who didn't know, and she'd ruined even that with Collie.
indentindentindent"If someone could just tell me what is going to solve my problems," she sighed. Kate had no desire to be patronized — in fact, it might have made her lash out all over again — but she was at a clear loss. Her life felt like a permanent state of running from one thing or another, and if only someone could have told her exactly what to do for it to not feel that way. It was too much to ask, but there was a chance Sebastian could point her in the right direction.