To Love and Blood

Kat wakes to the smell of frying bacon and the sound of a sputtering coffee maker. Groaning, she stretches out her arms and peers at the familiar bed around her. A smile grows on her face as her heart warms in her chest, hoping that this means that she and Jake have finally reached an agreement after her little breakdown last night.

Dragging a blanket tightly wrapped around her, Kat pads into the kitchen of Marc and Stevens flat and helps herself to a cup of coffee.

“I keep telling Steven to replace that machine.” Marc's sleep thick voice says, still focused on the sizzling pan in front of him, “I'm sure it will explode one of these days, but Steven says it's an antique or something.”

“Hmm,” Kat hums, taking a sip of the hot liquid and waiting for it to bring her back to the world of the living, “Half the things in this flat are antiques. The landlady is antique too.”

Marc huffs out a laugh, rough and rich, sending electric sparks through Kat’s veins as she smiles and hooks her chin over his broad shoulders, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Sorry I fell asleep during the movie.” Marc says, turning his head to press a chaste good morning kiss to Kats lips before focusing back on the task at hand, “Must have been more tired than I thought.”

The heart in Kat’s chest stills, her breathing faltering as her eyes widen. This is it, the moment of truth. She has two options now, either reject the olive branch offered last night and tell Marc everything… or don’t. She could just wait for Jake to reveal himself, to trust him.

“Yeah, you got pretty sleepy last night.” Kat says, the words feeling like cement in her mouth, dry and heavy with their falsehood.

She hates this, she hates lying to Marc and Steven. But Jake had asked her to not say anything, to trust him with this secret.

Grabbing a piece of bacon, Kat tears off a bite and ignores how it burns her tongue. It does nothing to rid her of that ashy taste left by her words and it only begins a pit in her gut as Marc laughs at her impatience.

Marc during the mornings is all rough gravelly voice and mussed hair. Kat loves it. When he is still shaking off sleep, he has an air of softness that disappears whenever he faces the rest of the world. Kat's favorite part of the day is morning, due in no small part to waking up next to Marc or Steven and being able to see them so unguarded, unburdened.

“Any plans for the weekend?” Marc asks as they settle at the scratched wooden dinner table, barely big enough for two people but they make it work.

Kat glances up at Marc, pulled from her thoughts as she realizes that today is Saturday. Pursing her lips, Kat fights to keep from laughing as she notices a bit of egg stuck to Marc's cheek.

“Nope.” Kat smiles brightly, “I finally finished my last case and now I am free all weekend, why? You have an idea, Loverboy?”

Kat leans forward, a teasing smirk on her lips as she flicks the egg off of Marc's face.

“Well, Steven mentioned this garden thing?” Marc looks away and rubs at the back of his neck, “It's not really my thing, I don't know much about plants, but I thought that maybe you might like it?”

Marc's voice trails off hesitantly the way it always does when he asks Kat to anything. Despite how he is dripped in confidence during the dates and after, the asking part always gets to him.

“I would love to.” Kat says sincerely, smiling as Marc gives a relieved chuckle and visibly relaxes.

***

The garden is beautiful. Gravel lined paths that crunch under each foot as people pass through, oohs and ahs at the brilliantly verdant leafy plants, sweet smelling air that floats heavily as Kat and Marc walk hand in hand.

The day is warm and sunny, letting Kat get away with wearing a sage green blouse and shorts without the need of a coat ruining the outfit. Her hair has been pulled back into a loose ponytail that was hastily put together as she realized that it is too hot to wear down.

Flowers line the paths with plaques marking each species, bright colors mixing together as the flower petals shine in the sun's light and flourish. Kat loves pulling Marc to each new area and crouching down to take pictures of the colorful flowers, each one light and delicate like glass.

But her favorite part of the entire garden is in the back, almost hidden from sight.

“Marc! Come here!” Kat squeals, clapping her hands together as she waits for Marc to catch up.

Marc walks up to Kat and glances at what she is so giddily grinning at.

“Cacti?”

There, planted somewhat haphazardly and further off the path, are tall strong spiked cacti. Their waxy skin gleams in the sun and makes their green color glow even brighter, the pure picture of a desert plant. Some stretch tall up towards where the sunbeams through the glass dome, others are short and squat like a pin cushion.

“Oh I love these!” Kat exclaims getting as close as she can without walking off the path, “Some can live up to 200 years, isn't that amazing?”

Marc hums his agreement behind her as his arm comes to wrap around her waist, gazing at the cacti as he lets his chin rest on the crook of Kat’s neck and relishing in the warmth of her skin.

Prickly and sharp, the cacti protect themselves from animals that wish to eat them. It is what Kat admires about these plants, that and their beautiful flowers. They are so different from the previous flowers of the garden as they have adapted to harsher climates, but still they bloom each year.

As Kat and Marc walk back through the entrance, both ready to grab lunch and get away from the growing crowds of people, Kat’s phone buzzes with an incoming call. Pulling it out, Kat glances at the number on the screen and feels her heart drop to her feet.

The gallery spins dizzyingly around her as Claire's number, the number Kat has memorized from staring at the contact page, flashes brightly. The Paris code digits stare back at Kat as her feet stop moving and her hand tightens around her phone till her knuckles are white with strain.

“Kat? Kitty Kat what is it?" Marc asks, gently grabbing Kat’s shoulders and turning her to face him and shield her from the view of the crowds.

Marc's brows are furrowed as Kat slowly raises her eyes to his. Her blue eyes are expenses of fear and delicate kindled hope.

“It's Claire.” Kat whispers, almost afraid to speak it aloud and risk the universe taking this chance back.

Marc's eyes go wide as he looks at Kat's phone and back to her frightened eyes, “Are you going to answer?”

Kat can feel the pressure mounting as each second passes and she risks having Claire give up. The vibrations buzzing in her hand feel like a bomb ticking down as her mind races. This is the moment, the opportunity she has been waiting and hoping for. But now that it's actually here, Kat finds the same old bones of fear rattling in her closet.

Images of a young girl with bouncy brown hair and bright blue eyes that always looked at Kt with pride flash as memories through her mind as she accepts the call and brings the phone to her ear.

Kat is silent as the call connects, unable to form words as she finally hears her sister for the first time in 18 years.

“Hello?” A clear, heavily French accented voice asks through the call, uncertain and soft.

The world shatters around Kat. A sob rises through the thickness in her throat that she has to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle as tears begin to prick at her eyes. Her heart is in combat with itself, joyous to hear Claire's voice and pained that it has taken so long. She hasn't heard this voice in so long, but even though it has changed and matured, Kat would recognize it anywhere.

“Claire.” Kat breathes, voice thick and shaky, “Uh, h-hi.”

She can barely breathe, let alone talk. The well of emotions too thick to fight through. Thankfully, Claire seems to already know what she wants to say.

“Hello, is this Katalya Mentuese?”

Kat nods before realizing that Claire can't see that and clears her throat, “Yeah, it's me.”

Kat can hear Claire take in a sharp breath over the line and she knows her sister is sorting through just as many emotions all the way over in France.

The crowds around her disappear and Kat is left only with the slight hum of static of the call and the soft breaths of Claire over the line. Not even Marc exists in her awareness and Kat can only focus on her sister.

“I have a business trip to London next week.” Claire offers, hesitancy lingering in her words but still she extends a clear invitation, “Would you like to get coffee together when I’m in town?”

A muffled sob escapes Kat’s lips as tears spill over and track down her cheeks, a breathless disbelieving smile creeping over her face.

“Yeah.” Kat bites her lip to force back down the emotions clawing at her, responding with pure unfiltered honesty, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“I'll text you the details?” Claire asks hopefully, the walls between them slowly coming back down after the years apart.

“That’d be great.” Kat smiles, wondering if she’s dreaming..

Claire ends the call and Kat is left with a silent phone pressed against her ear as she stands frozen

Slowly her mind unfogs and the milling of the surrounding crowd floats back into Kat’s awareness along with the weight of Marc's hand holding hers. Looking down, Kat realizes that she is squeezing the life out of Marc's hand, gripping it like a lifeline.

Quickly she lets go with a quick apology, one that she doesn't hear herself give. Her mind is still reeling and she is left bereft of awareness of her body as she absently follows Marc as he leads them back to his flat. She is silent as she enters the flat and barely notices herself sinking down onto the couch.

The smell of a rich tea and Marc's low soft voice slowly trickles into her awareness along with the feeling of the floor beneath her feet and the couch supporting her weight.

“Kitty Kat, I need you to drink this for me, okay?” Marc is saying as Kat blinks back to awareness.

He is holding out a mug to her, the one plastered with the Sailor Moon character that Kat had given him with an impish smile as she said it was just like him. Steam swirls like smoke from the lip of the mug and dances in the air as Kat slowly takes the drink with heavy weighted arms.

Kat lets the heat of the tea pull her sharply back fully to the present, feeling it burn all the way down her throat and settle warmly in her stomach like a comforting weight to ground herself.

“Holy shit.” Kat whispers, eyes flicking to Marc as she repeats it, “Holy shit.”

Marc chuckles and the worry in his brows melts away as Kat comes back to him. A wide grin slowly spreads over Kat’s face as her hands tremble, making Marc carefully slide the mug from her grasp to prevent her accidently burning herself.

“We’re meeting for coffee next week.” Kat explains, knowing that Marc wanted to ask but had been restraining himself, “She wants to talk to me!”

A giddiness like Marc has never seen comes over Kat as her entire body shakes and her eyes sparkle brightly. Grabbing Marc's hands, Kat shakes him as she begins to laugh happily.

“I can't believe it!” Kat exclaims, getting up from the couch and beginning to pace as an active energy infects her, “She wants to talk to me, Marc!”

“I know.” Marc says, sharing Kat’s happiness.

“Oh god.” Kat suddenly stops her pacing, horror dawning on her face as she looks at Marc, “What if she doesn't like me? We haven’t seen each other in so long. I’ve changed and surely she's changed… oh god, is she going to hate me more?”

Kat flops down to the floor unceremoniously with a look of deep concentration on her face as she pulls her knees to her chest. Lowering himself down, Marc sits opposite Kat and lays his hand over hers as he beckons her to look at him.

“She won't hate you, Kat.” Marc assures her, listening to Steven before saying, “Steven says that she's going to love you.”

“Thanks Steven.” Kat says, knowing the man can hear her from within Marc's mind.

Marc gives a sweet smile that makes his eyes crinkle in the way that makes Kat melt like putty in his hands. With a definitive nod to herself, Kat decides to armor herself with false confidence and just hope that it pays off.

That night, as Kat pulls the grey covers tighter around her and the moonlight shines in on her from the angular window, she ruminates of what has become of her life. She is free of the house by the sea, unshackled and released into the wild world. But in being set free she had lost the most important part of her.

But now, as Kat stares at the twinkling stars, she knows that that part is returning. It is coming next week in fact.

Turning over to face Steven’s sleeping form, Kat feels a soft smile grace her lips. An affectionate look that is saved for late restless nights when the two men sleep. Stevens' eyelashes are dark and flutter in his sleep, his curls flopped haphazardly against the pillow as his mouth is opened in a silent snore.

Slowly, careful not to wake him, Kat traces her finger down his cheek and once again wonders at how she became so lucky.

“I love you.” Kat whispers, soft and barely there as she feels the words settle and feel right against her heart.

She hadn't said it yet. She hadn't been able to work up the courage to accept how deep her affection for these men goes.

Now, as they sleep, Kat feels safe to admit this secret she has tucked within her chest. Only she and the watching moon will know of her love until she is ready to admit it when the object of affections isn't unconscious.

She's sure Marc and Steven already know. She doesn't exactly hide how much she cares for them. But still, something about the simple words hold a weight that makes Kat hold them dearly and tightly to her chest.

Shuffling closer, Kat slots herself into Steven's warm embrace and settles her head against his shoulder. With the stars keeping watch, Kat falls into a dreamless sleep that flows around her and consumes her in its tender haze.

The dip of the mattress wakes Kat up, pulling her from a light sleep. Squinting, Kat can see the dark shadowed outline of Marc sitting up. It is only when said outline swears in Spanish under his breath, that she realizes that this man is in fact Jake.

“What are you doing?” Kat asks, catching Jake by surprise and making him still, her voice is rough and scratchy with lingering dredges of sleep.

Kat props herself up on her elbow and stares sleepily at the man who keeps his back to her. Though her mind is a bit muddled, Kat knows that she's not going to like Jake's answer.

“I have some stuff to do.” Jake responds, voice low and quiet in the night stillness, “Go back to sleep, Leona.”

Kat glances at the digital clock on the bedside table and raises her brows dubiously.

“You have ‘stuff’ at 3am?”

Jake sighs and stands, stretching with a sigh, and padding over to the closet, “Avatar stuff.”

“Oh.” Kat says dumbly, unsure of what else to say in her groggy state.

Lying back down and pulling the duvet more firmly around her, Kat watches silently with critical eyes as Jake moves about the room. Lips pursed, Kat debates whether to say anything or to just pretend to go back to sleep.

Jake has just grabbed a jacket from the coat rack that only Marc uses, when Kat makes up her mind. Throwing back the covers, she decides to forgo sleep tonight and instead get her blood pumping.

“Wait up, I'm coming with you.” Kat calls, making Jake pause before the door.

Kat summons her suit and lets the cool metal cuffs settle over her skin and serve to wake her up more.

“Fine.” Jake huffs, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as Kat hurries to get ready.

Kat is surprised that he didn't argue with her, or say anything really. He clearly is not happy about her tagging along, but he's walking around in her boyfriend's body so tough luck. Ducking into the bathroom and grabbing a spare mini first aid kit and stuffing it in her pocket, Kat steps back out to the living room and motions for Jake to lead the way.

Kat follows at Jake's heels as the two prowl through the London night and lie in wait for someone to choose the wrong night for their crimes. The air is cool and pleasant on Kat’s skin and it tickles at her face as she leaps over the roofs and feels the burn and stretch in her legs as she runs.

Jake is silent as he works, Kat discovers. His suit is different too. It's the same style as Marc's but it's more rough, more ragged and messy. The same glowing eyes as before stare out ahead as the two perch on the edge of the roof of a bank and wait.

Kicking her legs over the ledge, Kat leans back and hums as she stares up at the stars and counts the constellations hidden by light pollution. Jake is a silent gargoyle beside her.

Finally, after half an hour of silence and restless waiting, they hear something. Well, more accurately Kat hears something. Perk of enhanced hearing after being possessed by a goddesses full power. Yay.

Tilting her head, Kat listens closely. It's someone crying, and someone else shouting. Furrowing her brows, Kat focuses and stretches her hearing to the click of metal and the flick of a switch knife.

Stretching her legs and standing, Kat gets a running start and leaps to the next roof on her pursuit of the noise. She doesn't wait for Jake, doesn't call for him, deciding that if he wants to come help out he will.

Tracking the sounds leads Kat to a cramped alleyway between a grocery store and a run-down clothing shop that looks straight out of 2010. The alleyway is covered in shadows, making it almost impossible to see anything from Kat’s position above.

Lowering herself down, Kat grips the edge of the roof until she's dangling from it. Glancing down, Kat sees the awaiting firescape just below her, but far enough away that a drop would still hurt and ruin the element of surprise. Twisting her lips into a grimace, Kat grabs her circular blades from her hair and jams one into the crevice of a brick, using the leverage to slowly crawl her way down the wall until she is able to step silently onto the escape platform.

The sound of whimpering reminds Kat to hurry the hell up and prompts her to slink down the fire escape stairs two at a time.

As she grows closer, the shadows fall away until Kat is able to see the shape of a young girl, maybe 16 but no older. She's cowering back against the brick wall as the glinting silver blade of a switch knife is pointed at her threateningly. The owner of said blade is a wiry thin man, black hair gelled back so much it looks like it's been dipped in grease and a pathetic excuse of a mustache. Barely an adult, Kat would guess. Maybe 20, 21?

An easy opponent.

Clutching her blades, Kat’s eyes narrow and focus before she throws her arm forward and releases the blade. It spins as it goes, a swirl of gold, and quickly slices the man's shoulder deeply and clatters to the ground noisily.

The man gives a shout and clutches at his arm as he looks around wildly to see who threw that. He cannot see Kat yet, as she stays deep in the overhanging shadows and watches with glee as the man shouts belligerently.

“Whoever threw that shit, come out now!” The man shouts, his voice high and strained as he tries to hold onto his sense of bravado, “Get out here you coward!”

Grabbing a rock from the ground, Kat throws it in the opposite direction of her, pleased as it skitters well and makes the man's attention direct towards it. Carefully, Kat peeks her head out of the shadows enough that the teen girl can see her. The girl's eyes widen impossibly large with fear as she sees Kat.

Signaling for her to be quiet, Kat points for the girl to make her way out of the alleyway and that Kat will deal with her attacker. Swallowing, the girl nods and flits her eyes between her attacker and Kat as she slowly shuffles down the alleyway.

While the girl makes her escape, Kat steps fully out of the shadows and creeps behind the man. Pressing the cold metal of her blade against the back of his throat, Kat allows herself a small, pleased, smile at the surprised yelp he lets out.

“What is it with assholes and alleys?” Kat asks conversationally, methodically letting the blade cut shallowly into the man's flesh and rest there as the blood beads up and begins to drip, “It's every single night, always an alley. What's up with that?”

Kat watches as a tremor runs through the thin man, his hands shaking as they clutch the switch blade but he makes no sudden moves yet. She can hear his breathing quick and rapid like a rabbit, his heart beating furiously.

“Who the fuck are you, bruv?” The man asks, voice shaking and hitching as Kat digs the blade slightly deeper.

Pulling the blade back, Kat grabs the man's injured shoulder tightly and presses into the cut as she turns him around so he faces her. The man hisses and tries to wriggle out of her grasp but the replacement of the sharp blade against his Adam's apple makes him still.

“I'm your final warning.” Kat says with venom dripping from every word, sharp and dangerous, “Don’t do this shit again. If you do, I will hunt you down and make sure your organs hang from The Shard.”

The man opens his mouth to respond but barely gets a sound out as Kat’s foot connects with his ribs and sends him sprawling back against the ground and spitting up air.

“You're lucky you're young,” Kat tells him, grabbing her abandoned blade and cleaning the dirt off of it, “You should have seen what I do to the middle aged ones.”

The man, young adult, scrambles back and Kat can see the beginning of tears shining in his eyes. Good.

Without further ado, Kat replaces her blades in her bun and makes sure the girl is gone and safe before grabbing the edge of the fire escape and swinging herself up until she reaches the rooftop once again.

Waiting there is Jake, his white crescent cape billowing behind him dramatically as his glowing white eyes stare at Kat, revealing nothing of his emotions. Cocking a questioning brow at him, Kat waits for the man to say something, anything, to show how he feels. He stays silent. Simply turning and walking away as Kat follows.

Two fights later, one being Jake’s and the other Kat’s, the two find themselves back at the flat nursing their wounds, a bottle of whisky passed between them.

Without the suit, Kat can see better the hitch of Jake's brows, the way he grimaces and twitches his nose when he disagrees with something. Injury wise he is fine, his suit protecting him well. Kat has a few scrapes and bruises over her arms and neck but nothing major.

“You're a hypocrite.” Kat says, breaking the fragile silence between them.

Maybe it's the warmth of the whisky in her gut or the way Jake stares ahead and doesn't look at her, either way Kat feels her tongue loosen as the words spill out easily.

“You disapprove of my work as an avatar but then you turn around and do the same.” Kat’s voice is frustrated, a frown on her lips as she drinks a gulp of whisky and feels it burn down her throat, “It's hypocritical. And possibly sexist! Wait, are you sexist?”

Kat stares at Jake with wide eyes and raises her brows, waiting for an answer as she leans closer to him.

Jake finally turns to look at Kat, his face painted with confusion. With a tired chuckle, he pulls the bottle from Kat’s grasp and sets it beside him.

“You're drunk, Leona.”

“You didn't answer my questions.” Kat remarks, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “And I'm not drunk, just tired and tipsy.”

Jake raises a brow at her, amusement flickering over his face, “Your question of whether I am sexist?”

Kat nods seriously, going to grab the bottle again but being stopped as Jake grabs it and places it even further away from her. Kat gives an affronted noise and scowls at Jake who just gives a soft laugh.

“No, Leona.” Jake answers, a faint smile twitching at his lips, “And I don't judge you for your work either.”

Kat furrows her brows, a frown framing her face as she tilts her head at him. Memories of Jake walking away earlier in the night without a word beg to differ.

But before Kat can voice this, Jake's eyes roll back in his head and his body collapses. Kat barely has any time to panic before his eyes open again, but in Jake's place are the clear eyes of Steven.

Kat watches, open mouthed and stunned, as Steven groans and shakes himself off. He blinks a few times while looking around in confusion before his eyes land on Kat and he relaxes, giving her a bright unbothered smile.

“Oof, I feel like I've been through the ringer.” Steven says, his dorky way of speaking endearing even when Kat is still shocked by the switch, “Uh, how exactly did I get here? Did Marc take over?”

A heavy weight falls on Kat's shoulders as Steven waits for an explanation. She could say it was Marc, say he had wanted a nightcap to explain the bottle of whisky. But then she would just be shifting the blame to Marc. No, she wouldn't do that.

Stevens face is so open and unguarded, fully trusting of Kat and it's like a knife being twisted through her heart.

“It wasn't Marc,” Kat tells him, keeping her voice light despite the bitter taste of dread in her mouth, “You were just sleepwalking.”

“Sleepwalking?” Steven questions, quickly accepting Kat’s lie and shrugging, “Huh, I always thought that was just Marc.”

Kat pastes on a smile and fights down the way the truth wants to spill out of her mouth. She clamps her lips shut and refuses to let them slither out. She can do this. All she has to do is lie to everyone who cares for her. She just has to break the trust they so generously gave her.

“Let's go back to bed.” Kat finally says, offering Steven her hands and walking with him back to the bed.

It takes a long while for her to fall asleep. Thoughts stuck on what she's supposed to do. What is right in this situation?

***

For the rest of the week Kat is set on edge.

Between keeping Jake's secret and her sister's impending visit she is close to snapping. Her case at work has hit a dead end and to make matters worse, she just got her heel caught in a grate.

Swearing colorfully at the grate, Kat draws some attention as she yanks her heel out and flips the grate off. She storms down the sidewalk, making everyone part for her as she marches forward. Frustration rolls off of her all week and Marc and Steven have noticed.

They do their best to help. They're sweet and kind in their attempts and that just makes it worse as it burns Kat with guilt. Now, as Kat shoves open the door to her flat, she has one thing on her mind. Get a damn shower and calm the hell down.

Tonight is date night with Steven, which means that she needs to get control of her emotions quickly. She knows that she's not frustrated at Steven or Marc and she doesn't want to ruin this by lashing out.

Climbing under the hot water and letting the steam curl around her, Kat can feel the knots in her back unwind and relax. The tension melts away down the drain and Kat tries to get the restless energy to do the same.

It crawls under her skin like bugs. It claws at her throat and sends her stomach in spirals. It churns in her mind and keeps her thoughts racing too fast to fully catch. It stuffs her mouth with the wrong words and ties her tongue till it strains to speak.

The situation with Jake weighs on her mind heavily. The guilt that burdens her whenever she sees Marc or Steven. It keeps her tossing and turning at night and steals her mind from its focus.

Turning the shower off with a squeak of the knob, Kat steps out and wraps a soft towel around herself, trying to focus on the feel of it and ground herself in the present.

She had been serious about going to therapy. She started seeing her therapist about a week after arriving back in London and though she cannot discuss everything about herself since the whole cat goddess thing would surely get her committed, she has found some useful techniques.

Taking deep breaths, Kat pulls on a nice dress and grabs the army green jacket she had stolen from Marc. Settling her nerves and trying to breathe out everything weighing on her, Kat checks herself in the mirror one last time before running out the door. Ready to meet Steven and have a nice, simple, pleasant evening away from all the stress.