If there's anybody around her watching this terror, Kate is unaware of them. She's in a fog. Everything is moving in slow motion, down to the paramedics coming back to stand over her mother's body. To her, it appears they're not talking about what they could have done about her mother, but superficial things like their plans for the weekend. Their voices are too slurred to make out clearly, but the tones tell Kate it's much too casual at the moment. Does nobody care? Does nobody wonder about the teenage girl standing there with pieces of the shattered glass gripped tightly in her fist, her mom's blood mixing with her own?
She couldn't help her. Kate is young, untrained, and had given absolutely no thought to becoming a superhero at her age. The hours she spent willingly at charity events never prepared her for this. All she knows is her family is now broken, not by a more socially acceptable act like divorce, but by murder.
Her family is broken, both in real life and in this dream. Somebody snatched the center of their world away from them. Who is going to tell her dad?
He's still watching Kate, wondering if someone's going to pass by - a friend or even her other parent - someone who could pierce the bubble that separated her from the motions of the real world. Because he had walked in that fog once, that space separated and buffered from the constant flow of reality.
There was no one else coming and he could feel needle pricks against his behind. A hard wooden branch wasn't the most comfortable place to sit, and so egged by that and ultimately a desire to pull Kate out of her solitude, he carefully climbs down until his sneakers hit the concrete sidewalk with a clap.
"Hey."
It'd be stupid to ask Are you okay, his common sense knows better than that. He doesn't really know what to say, other than to say something as if words could give reassurance to the grieving girl. But it's the best he can offer, that and a gentle hand on her shoulder. It's gentle enough that it's barely there against the fabric of her top.
No one's going to pass by. Her subconscious has made sure of this. Somehow Kate knows her sister is off spending money on something stupid and that her dad is holed up in his office making more money to give to her sister. The Young Avengers doen't exist to her right now and even if they did show up, there's no guarantee she would recognize them.
The barely there hand on her shoulder is unexpected to the point that Kate jumps, skittering away like a terrified cat. Settling down takes a few long seconds where she doesn't verbally reply to Amory. All Kate does is hold her hand out flat to him, some of the glass bits standing straight up like soldiers in her skin with others falling to Earth with the gentleness of snowflakes.
She's giving them to him, a piece of her and a piece of her mother. It's also a piece of her mind she keeps locked away. She just wants it out of her hand. It's too much to carry.
She couldn't help her. Kate is young, untrained, and had given absolutely no thought to becoming a superhero at her age. The hours she spent willingly at charity events never prepared her for this. All she knows is her family is now broken, not by a more socially acceptable act like divorce, but by murder.
Her family is broken, both in real life and in this dream. Somebody snatched the center of their world away from them. Who is going to tell her dad?
Reply
There was no one else coming and he could feel needle pricks against his behind. A hard wooden branch wasn't the most comfortable place to sit, and so egged by that and ultimately a desire to pull Kate out of her solitude, he carefully climbs down until his sneakers hit the concrete sidewalk with a clap.
"Hey."
It'd be stupid to ask Are you okay, his common sense knows better than that. He doesn't really know what to say, other than to say something as if words could give reassurance to the grieving girl. But it's the best he can offer, that and a gentle hand on her shoulder. It's gentle enough that it's barely there against the fabric of her top.
Reply
The barely there hand on her shoulder is unexpected to the point that Kate jumps, skittering away like a terrified cat. Settling down takes a few long seconds where she doesn't verbally reply to Amory. All Kate does is hold her hand out flat to him, some of the glass bits standing straight up like soldiers in her skin with others falling to Earth with the gentleness of snowflakes.
She's giving them to him, a piece of her and a piece of her mother. It's also a piece of her mind she keeps locked away. She just wants it out of her hand. It's too much to carry.
Reply
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