spin_kick_snap: (Ain't Nobody Got Time For This)
Kathy sat on the hard police bench, right outside the holding cell, an ice pack against her cheek. The holding tank was surprisingly full for a Wednesday night; not only were a bunch of guys from the warehouse there, but so were several drunks, two dealers, and a pickpocket. Once, she would have helped put the people in there--in fact, she recognized one of the dealers and was doing her best not to let him get a good look at her. Now, while she wasn't in the cell itself, it was only because the police didn't think it would be 'appropriate.' They thought she was still underage and Kathy wasn't about to tell them otherwise because right now, technically, she wasn't under arrest. She hadn't been handcuffed, they weren't processing her, and she wasn't even under guard--though there were several cops that occasionally checking over to make sure she was still there and sitting quietly. Nothing that happened tonight was going onto her permanent record--though she'd already gotten several paternalistic lectures on the way to the station and they weren't letting her leave until an 'adult' got here to collect her.

If she'd been thinking straight, she would have given them Raven's number and had her shift into a grumpy old Korean lady to come and fetch her. Then again, if she'd been thinking straight, she wouldn't be here now. Not that she'd been big on thinking straight since she'd been resurrected. Really, the way she'd been going, this outcome had practically been inevitable.

This will all be fine )

[Preplayed with the utterly splendid [livejournal.com profile] vdistinctive. NFB, I have all the feels]
spin_kick_snap: (Sleepy)
Nightmare )



Kathy flung herself upright in bed, gasping for breath, shaking her head in hopes of dislodging the last images of the dream. No, memory. It was too real, to vividly detailed to be a dream. She was starting to learn the distinctions between the two. Like how memories were always worse.

Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was almost one, but the adrenaline threading through her veins wouldn't let her get back to sleep anytime soon. She thought about doing a couple of laps around the island to try to tire herself out and get a few more hours of rest but honestly? It rarely ever seemed to work. Neither did vegging out in front of the TV until dawn, or soaking in a hot bath with a book. The problem was, none of those activities were good at giving her what she was looking for: a chance to get out of her own head, to forget those things her brain was forcing her to remember. Maybe she should call Anders? He'd said to call if she needed to talk--but no. It was late, he'd possibly be in bed, and she didn't want to talk, she wanted to do.

The lights over the water from Baltimore caught her eye through the window and she shoved her blankets out of the way. Maybe that was what she needed, a trip into the city. Boston hadn't done much for her state of mind, but she'd managed to sleep every night. The bars would be closing soon, but she knew of a couple of after-hour clubs she could get into. With the pounding beat, music loud enough to deafen, and a crowd of bodies to get lost in, Kathy might finally find a way to drown out her thoughts even if she couldn't shut them up.

[Warning for zombie-typical violence to a teen under the cut.]

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