ikissdhimbck | OOM: Have yourself a merry little Christmas...

It's the day before Christmas Eve. December.

Even looking at a calendar it's hard to believe she was gone the whole month of November. That's not what she had planned. She was only meant to be gone until All Hallow's passed, given a little time to ease herself into a month that makes her bones freeze whether she's in faux-Scotland or Texas, not dumped straight into the middle of it without any warning.

December.

How many years will it make it now since the Crockers put a bullet in her daddy's heart, just a few days shy of the holidays? About as many years since she last celebrated Christmas, she reckons. Is there really any point when the one you want to celebrate with ain't there? All her memories, all her traditions, tied so inexorably to her father that the thought of trying by herself made her cold.

Until last year.

It's been a topsy-turvy December, with money in her pocket and Tommy around. For the first time in a while, she hasn't been alone. But trying to explain why she sometimes goes quiet, staring off into space, arms hugged around herself and eyes so, so sad, isn't as easy as she thought it would be. They've talked, sure. He brought her to New York. But she hasn't told him everything; about the nightmares, or the conversation she had with her 'father' over All Hallow's Eve, or how it's creeping up on the anniversary of Sam's death, or the cold winter she spent trapped in a cabin in Colorado after putting Doc's body in the ground. The wind howls through the trees here, and it sounds like voices moaning, wailing, fingers scrabbling up out of the earth. The snow puts a chill in her skin that's only mirrored by the one in her heart.

She smiles, and tells him to spend the night with her. She flirts, and teases. Anything so long as she doesn't have to be alone; so long as he doesn't leave. And he makes her laugh. He makes her feel good. Some days, everything's all right. And she thinks about the promise she made to herself, alone in the desert; she thinks about trying to live again, and dares to feel hope.

Tommy's been gone for a few days now, and she can tell by the mood of the bar and the steadily growing pile of presents under the massive festive tree that Christmas Eve is growing near. She takes several deep breaths while she's settling affairs in the stables, letting the ice in the air burn her lungs. She hums under her breath, songs her daddy used to sing. And when she goes inside, she heads to Miss Bar to ask for holiday sweets and candles for her windows. She'll find a reason to celebrate this year.

She ends up with a note instead.

The words blur, along with the rest of the room. She doesn't know if she's more angry or hurt, shocked or ashamed. It's a tangled knot inside her that makes her feel sick, and through the thousands of thoughts screaming through her head she's able to discern one. Just one.

You were s'posed to be ... better.

Calmly, she conscientiously folds the note up into a perfect square, tucking it inside her vest pocket. And then she turns on her heel, abandoning everything else, and heads for the stairs. She doesn't hear anything. She doesn't see anything. She doesn't feel anything. With any luck, her door will be locked behind her before the first tears fall.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And like that, she has company. Maybe not wanted at the moment, but concerned nonetheless. Remy had seen Kate sidle up to the Bar and she'd been fully prepared to saunter up with a light quip and a drink invitation when she'd spotted varying emotions playing across the woman's face.

She'd hug back for the moment, but as soon as she saw Kate heading for the stairs, she'd moved quickly towards her, counting on her longer legs to catch up with the smaller woman quickly. Then, placing a light touch to her arm.

"Kate?"

She jerks away from the touch.

"Oh. Remy."

She quickly looks away.

"'Scuse me, I was jus' headin' upstairs."

Without waiting, she continues on her way.

"Kate," she says again, once more relying on longer legs to bypass her on the stairs and bar the way. "Talk to me, what happened?"

"I really can't talk right now."

Her voice breaks somewhere in the middle of that, and she stubbornly doesn't look at the other woman. She takes a few deep breaths, willing her head and her heart to be still.

"Please, lemme pass."

Remy frowns a bit more deeply, reaching for Kate once more to draw her close when her voice breaks.

"Let's get you upstairs, then, alright?"

"I don't need your help."

It's a little sharper than she means.

At least Remy has moved aside, and so she continues on her way up the stairs.

"Thank you, I jus' — wanna be alone."

The sharp words give her pause, but she moves to keep pace with Kate this time, rather than bar her way.

"Hey," she says softly, touching her arm again as they move. "That's fine, but I'm going to check on you later, okay?"

She tries to force some lightness to her tone.

"You better answer when I come around, alright, Blue Eyes?"

Ah, shit.

"Please don't."

The affectionate nickname, the perseverance, the concern — not to mention the fact that Remy reminds her of Voodoo — just undoes her. She can't swallow the boulder in her throat.

"Jus' let me be. Y'won't wanna get mixed up in this."

"T'hell I don't," she insists with another gentle touch, keeping her voice soft as one can through the din of the bar. "You're by friend, and you're upset over whatever was on that note. I think that entitles me to some concern."

She slows.

And then she stops.

It isn't easy to walk when you can't see where you're going.

"M'upset 'bout a helluva lot more'n that, but I — "

She covers her face. Shit. She doesn't want to be weak. She refuses to cry. But, for all the effort that takes, it keeps her from being able to speak.

Remy shifts, moving so she's between Kate at the bar. Slowly, she grasps the other woman once more to pull her against herself, holding her close because she doesn't know what else to do in the face of those tears.

"I'm not going to walk away, Kate."

Distantly, she can feel the press of Remy at her back. There, one step below her, bracing her so she won't fall. Shielding her from any prying eyes.

She refuses to fall apart.

"It's jus' been — a lot."

This whole month. The last several months. So much has happened, good and bad, and she hasn't really stopped to think or rest or breathe. And it's December. December. And she hasn't had any time —

It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually she gets control of herself.

"I hate this time'a year. An' I'm so mad at Voodooo — so mad I can't hardly see straight. I jus' need t'be by myself."

Remy nods, it's mostly to herself, but Kate would have a difficult time seeing it, anyway. Next, there's a hug, Remy wrapping almost bodily around Kate and holding her for a long moment.

"Alright," she murmurs, pressing a fond kiss to her hair. "Okay, but I'll still be coming to check on you, okay?"

She doesn't know what to say. It's not okay. She doesn't want Remy to see her like this. She doesn't want the fuss, and she doesn't want to draw out something so — stupid.

So she nods.

Helpless.

She squeezes Kate once more before releasing her, but doesn't back away, still allowing Kate to lean back against her for as long as she'd like and offering that physical shield and support.

"Go on and do what you need to do to feel better, I'll come see you later."

She sucks in a steadying breath.

"Thank you."

She means it. For the support; for letting her go.

Rallying what's left of her pride, she slowly makes her way up the rest of the stairs, gripping the banister a little harder this time.

Remy watches her go, staying rooted in place as her friend ascends the remainder of the stairs. Once she's out of sight, she goes back into the bar proper to think.

OOM: Have yourself a merry little Christmas...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject