Chapter Text
All things considered, flying to your enemy’s lair at breakneck speed in the middle of the night- while being held by the throat- was not how I wanted this night to go. Of course things weren’t going how I wanted as of late, so I suppose I really shouldn’t have been surprised. I was being taken farther and father away from my home by the second, and there was nothing I could do about it. As it was, my screams and struggling were only half of what they should have been- but I blamed the lack of air and the mile high drop below me for that. I kicked my legs, arms clawing at the arm holding me by my throat, trying to gain a little more air- just enough to clear the fog in my head.
Demona was latched onto my neck with one hand, the other tight around my bicep. I was going to have bruises in the shape of her claws, I was sure. Terror surged through me, thrumming along my legs and humming in my chest. How did I get myself in these kinds of situations? My mind was getting more cloudy- something that worried me only a little more than the fact that Demona could very easily let me go and kill me; and I wouldn’t put it past her, either. Mother would either be screaming in horror or anger- either way, I could almost hear her yelling at me. 'Kate I told you this would happen! Being with those creatures will only end in pain!' It was an old argument, one that had really exploded three weeks ago. The memory was surprisingly clear for how hard it was to breath currently.
--9--
“Where have you been?” The voice was sharp and tight. I sighed, debating on whether I wanted to just walk back out the door and back the way I came.
“Where I go every night, mother. To see the Clan.” My mother was a fierce thing once. Back when she didn’t know anything about the inside of the police tower and my imprisonment. Now her face was lined with worry around her mouth, deep creases between her eyebrows, and tight shoulders pulled back just too far. She once commanded attention and respect, delivering orders with the natural power of a leader. Instead she seemed to have shrunk into a frightened woman trying to be much too big. There was once an easy grace of one who loved every inch of herself. Now she was trying to be taller, wider, more than she was. I gritted my teeth. Every time I got home, there she was. Arms crossed and brows drawn together in disapproval. Fear was there as well, but I had stopped being sympathetic about a month ago when she tried to keep me from the clock tower.
“I thought I told you to stop seeing them.” She deepened her glare, as if she could cut out my disobedience with just her look. I snorted and pushed past her, heading into the kitchen. The apartment was too small to truly get away from her, so I put the table in between us. I wrapped my coat around me tighter, trying to gather my thoughts. I hated this. Fighting and tearing at each other like this. It wasn’t right. We only had each other, Dad had walked out on us when I was six and any grandparents I might have known were dead. We were supposed to be a team- had been, at one point. This fighting was wrenching at my heart and I wanted it to stop. I wanted things to go back to the way they had been before- before mother had known about Goliath, Hudson, Broadway, Lex, Brooklyn.
“How many times do I have to remind you? They are the reason you were kidnapped! You were targeted because of them! Imprisoned for-!” I whirled around and slammed my hands on the table, cutting off her angry yelling.
“I know! It was me hanging by those chains! I was the one starved and drugged!” I shouted. My wrists were still scarred from my time in Sevarious’s dungeon. My ribs had only recently disappeared beneath my skin. My scratches and bruises had faded, but the nightmares had not. “They rescued me! Brought me back to you- at the risk of they’re own lives! You act like they wanted me to get kidnapped and tortured!” I could see how my words effected my mother, the color draining from her face and her hands forming fists and her jaw tightly clenched.
“If you hadn’t met them-,” I scoffed, turning away and scraping my hands through my hair harshly, “If you hadn’t met them, none of this would have happened! You wouldn’t be waking up every morning screaming, you wouldn’t have almost starved to death, you wouldn’t have those scars!” I flinched. She knew how to get under my armor. My fingers traced the white ridges around my wrist, trembling as they did. I took a deep breath, pulling my sleeves down and forcing my hands to my sides.
“Without them, I would have been shot in that gas station a year and a half ago. Without them I would have been raped in an alley.” I turned to face her, eyes blurry, voice low and steady. “Without them I would have killed myself from you abandoning me for the hospital. You spent every hour there. You left me. You left me!” I raised my voice, drowning out mother’s words. “I could deal with dad leaving. I could deal with the looks of all the kids in school, the whispers and rumors of why he left. But then you decided to live in the hospital and forget about me! I needed you! I was alone and you didn’t care where I was! You were all I had and you decided I wasn’t worth it!” I was going to far, pushing too much. But I didn’t care. I was hurting and she wouldn’t stop pushing me to leave the Clan. Pulling me to move from the city. I was through- enough was enough. “You didn’t want to come home and see just me! You came home later and later- and then one day you just didn’t come home! You’re just like dad!” Mom hit the wall, staggering backwards like I had hit her. I stood ridged, horror crashing over me. I had done the one thing I had sworn never to say. I knew it wasn’t true, but I couldn’t bring myself to take it back. The words sat between us like acid, eating away at everything we had.
“Get out.” Her words were whispered, but I heard them just fine. Shock froze me to the floor. “Get out.” They were louder now, but still I didn’t- couldn’t- comprehend them. Finally my mother slammed her foot on the floor and screamed, “I said get out! Leave!” Tears started falling. I took a shaky breath. Then I turned and strode out of the place I had lived in for thirteen years. I don’t know when it had ceased to be a home, but it hadn’t been in a long time.
“Leave your keys!” Mom’s voice stopped me cold. In the middle of the front hall I struggled to stay standing. Around me floated images of the two of us laughing and living as a team. It had fractured the moment she had learned of the gargoyles. Now we were truly broken. My hand was shaking so hard I almost couldn’t pull my key chain from my pocket. Beside the single key was a round picture of my mother and me. She was kissing my cheek and I was almost glowing with happiness. A choked sob wrenched itself free of my throat. Forcing myself to let the keys go, I heard them clatter against the wood floor. Without looking back at the kitchen or the keys on the floor, I jerked the door open and ran through it. Only just remembering to slam it closed, I sprinted out of the building and down the street.
I couldn’t see what was around me or where I was going, but it didn’t matter. I had long ago burned the route into my body- my mind wasn’t needed. Memories flashed through my head, my mother’s face and all the times we had spent together. Days spent doing nothing but enjoying each others company- it had been us against the world. So long as I had her, I could truly take on anything. Then I ruined it. I had kept Brooklyn and the others a secret for far too long. I hadn’t said anything when I was attacked, twice. I had yelled and screamed and blocked her out. I told her she was no better than the man who had walked out and never looked back. This was my fault!
Suddenly, I was inside the broom closet, pressing my hands to my eyes and sobbing hard enough to feel sick. My back hit the wall and I slid down until my knees were supporting my head. Everything in me hurt. My stomach rolled and I hacked out a cough, choking on my tears. How had things escalated so quickly? Fire burned along my legs, my wrists throbbed like the shackles were once again around them. My ribs stung. My head was stuffed with so much I couldn’t think. All I knew was that my mother had thrown me out and she didn’t want me back. The one person I had been so sure would always have my back. The one person that would always be on my team. Always by my side. I had set her against me, made her into an enemy and then cut into our relationship too deep. My world was spinning and breaking around me. I couldn’t get up, couldn’t right myself, couldn’t do anything. Exhaustion pulled at me, forcing me to stop crying far too soon. Sleep claimed me before I could even move to lay down. I was lost.