spin_kick_snap | Barry's Old Warehouse, Warehouse District, Friday Afternoon

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Barry's Old Warehouse, Warehouse District, Friday Afternoon

Kathy had been a busy little bee over the last few days and, finally, all of her holiday shopping was over with. And rather than attempting to wrap everything at the house, where anyone could wander in and spoil themselves for their Christmas (or birthday!) surprises, Kathy had brought all of the presents to the warehouse to wrap in peace and security. They'd stay there until the household managed to get a proper Christmas tree set up and decorated and then she'd bring them home and stash them under it and at last the house would be ready for Christmas.

Maybe they could go out and get a tree this weekend, if Dante got back from Limbo City by then? She was hoping they could decorate the tree together, as a household, with mulled wine and Christmas carols and tasty treats because bribing her housemates with sugar was a tried and true method.

Just a few more presents and her wrapping would be done. And then maybe she'd go get whatever insane holiday drink the Perk had concocted over the last week and then go bug Eliot for another guitar lesson or something.

[Open for all your BDE folks!]

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Dante didn't enter the warehouse, of course. He wasn't stupid.

But to be here again, with the sun shining and people happy and healthy... well, who could blame him, for sitting outside on an opposing rooftop, trying to get a glimpse of a healthy Kathy?

And his perch provided him with an excellent view inside. Kathy sat in the middle of a pool of warm light, bent over a package she was wrapping with meticulous care, ensuring each crease was crisp and perfect and the patterns matched all along the cut edge. One of the windows didn't quite sit right in the frame, allowing strains of music to waft over to him on the air. Christmas carols, of course--her lips were moving along with the words.

She looked healthy, yes. And happy and at peace.

It made something buried and tucked away squeeze painfully in his chest.

This had been a bad idea. He should leave.

With a sigh, Dante stood up.

The bit of movement where none should be caught Kathy's attention. She also stood, head cocked like a bird's, trying to get a spot what her subconscious mind had flagged. She was still and alert, like an antelope that had spotted what might be a predator in this distance--

Or a zombie having caught a glimpse of prey.

There. A flash of white...hair, maybe? Had Dante come back from Limbo City already? Then why was he lurking out on a roof? "Dante?" she called, making her way up to the loft and then across to the balcony in time too short to be measure in seconds. "Is that you?"

For a moment, Dante's eyes widened.

His fingers twitched by his coat pocket, where the mask portruded from the fabric. He turned abruptly, jerked, and leaped off the roof.

Was this some kind of weird game? Or did he need her for something?

Either way, Kathy didn't even stop to think, immediately following in his wake. She had a moment to regret her lack of coat, but it was too late, she'd already committed. "Dante!" she called, putting on extra speed to try to catch up with him. "Hey, wait up! The hell are you playing at here?"

Shit.

Dante kept walking, keeping his back to her. "I'm not your Dante."

"Ha ha, possessiveness joke," Kathy said, catching up to him. "I'm not about to--"

She stopped, taking him in, noting the differences between this Dante and the one she knew. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent as ever, crawled over him, noting every detail. "Oh," she said, a handful of seconds later. "You're not."

Beat.

"What Dante are you?" Most weird weekends, people were replaced by their doubles, with no real idea that there was any change at all. "Better question, why are you here?"

"To make sure you all live a little longer," Dante said.

He came to a slow stop. "For better or for worse."

"Little late for that," Kathy said with a wry quirk of her lips.

Sorry, just a little resurrection humor for you. Kathy frequently fell under the misapprehension she was funny.

"What's going on?" she asked. "...Demons?"

"Memory plague," Dante said.

Casually.

Kathy frowned. "A memory plague bad enough that it can hill?" she asked. She stepped closer, into his personal space, looking up into the blue of his eyes. "You're not affected, are you?"

Call it a hunch.

And, instinctively, Dante took a step back.

"No."

"Hey," Kathy, stepping forward again with a hand raised. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Immediately, her face flamed. Obviously that wasn't something he was worried about. This was her. And him. She had better odds trying to hurt a rock.

"Yeah you do," Dante said, before he could stop himself. "Just forget I was here."

"What? How?" Kathy asked, confused. "Dante, you can't show up with warnings of death and memory plagues and then try to tell me to forget you. That's never gonna happen."

Somewhere, his other self was nodding her agreement.

"Even if this wasn't all dire portents and weird warnings, it's you." She didn't reach out to touch him, hand curling against her chest as she fought off the instinct.

"You're gonna forget me," Dante said. He took a step. Then another. "Don't worry about it."

"So, I don't know when the last time you talked to a version of me was," Kathy said, continuing to follow him, step for step, "but that's not what I do."

I wanna tell you not to worry, but you're gonna anyway. His voice in a hotel room, wrapped up in one another.

She looked at him, pure frustration written over her face. "What is it about me, Dante, that makes you need to run away?"

A long silence.

"Nothing," Dante said, and resumed his path, "You need to worry your pretty head about."

"Oh," Kathy said, voice falsely sweet, adjusting her stride to keep up with his. "So I should just go back to my warehouse and keep wrapping presents and let the big, strong man handle everything?"

That was even more laughable than his suggestion not to worry.

"You were the one who was watching me," she reminded. "So you're clearly--oh."

"You should go back to your warehouse and keep wrapping presents," Dante said, ignoring the 'oh'.

That was fine, she was ignoring his whole line of bullshit altogether.

"You're not used to me anymore, are you?" Kathy asked. "The me that was in your reality--I'm dead."

That would explain so much.

"My Kathy's gonna be surprised to hear she's dead," Dante said, heaving a sigh.

Still walking.

Well, there went that theory.

"Then what the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, still following. "Why show up and watch me wrap presents if you're going to pull this whole stoic, silent protagonist bullshit?"

Things no one had ever called Dante for 100 please.

"It was a mistake," Dante said flatly.

If she couldn't connect A and B, all the better. He didn't need pity or horror today.

Well, he still hadn't given her much in the way of information about how the memory plague worked, so...

Even knowing he was doing it to push her away didn't stop Kathy from flinching at his words, delivered in that tone. It felt like early April again, only this time she didn't know what she'd done to deserve it.

"If you have a Kathy, then you know it hurts when you shut me out like this. Let me help. I'm not asking to be your best friend or anything, but...this is my island. Shouldn't I get to lend a hand in saving it?"

"With your track record?"

Dante knew it was cruel. He just didn't know how much longer he could deal with this healthy Kathy, who remembered everything and didn't need constant guidance.

That got her to stop at least, turning her head so he didn't see her eyes fill up, maybe wouldn't hear the way her breath caught.

Saturday morning cartoon...

She ignored that, this wasn't her Dante, like he said. The opinion he had of her didn't count, didn't matter.

And maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would even be true.

"What the fuck do you know about that anyway?" she asked in a low voice.

"Same track record my Kathy had, before everything went to shit," Dante said oh-so-casually, his hands shoved into his coat.

"B-But--" and how she hated that tremor in her voice, hated that she was letting him know that he'd gotten to her. "She's still here. And I'm still here. Fighting. That's more than some others."

"She had to write what she's fighting for on her arm on sharpie because otherwise she keeps wanting to know if we're here on a date," Dante said.

Idly.

Well maybe you should take her out on a date, Dante. Ever think of that?

"I--what?" Kathy asked, confused. "Sharpie?"

And then the pieces all fell into place, he could watch the understanding come together in her eyes.

"But she's still here," she said. "Willing to fight. Even if she had to check her goddamn notes each time, she's here to help. Surely that says something!"

"Yeah, that I should be making sure she's safe, instead of stalking the girl she used to be," Dante said, his fingers clenching in his pockets. "Like I said, this was a mistake."

"Then why are you here?" Kathy asked, voice hard. She was coming to a decision. "If coming to see me was such a mistake, why's you even bother?"

"Because I wanted to."

Kathy really wished her Dante was around to act as a translator. Because now she was seesawing back towards sympathy, rather than anger.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you just like fucking with my emotions," she said, taking another step closer, looking up into his eyes.

"I never said a word to you," Dante said, rolling those eyes. "You're the one who came out here."

"Because I saw you on the roof." Kathy said, rolling her eyes. "I thought you were my Dante, back from Limbo City. I thought that you'd want me out there."

"Yeah, but that doesn't make this my fault," Dante shot back.

"You know what?" Kathy said, throwing her hands up, "forget it. You do whatever you're going to do. I don't know why I even bothered arguing with you in the first place. You do your thing and I'll do mine."

He'd already alerted her to the danger. If he wanted to fuck off rather than deal with her, that was fine. That just meant one fewer person to argue with when she went out to fight anyway.

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Barry's Old Warehouse, Warehouse District, Friday Afternoon

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