[Katie Graushuper]

This was the absolute worst day in the history of all of Katie’s life. It was even worse than the day she got switched to the understudy in band at the last second. Katie buried her face in her arms, feeling the cold table beneath her cheek. She was still homeless, unfortunately, because apparently having a schizophrenic episode in the middle of walkthrough isn’t the best first impression. Who would have thought? Whatever. She had noped out of there as quickly as possible. The episode had only lasted a minute or so, and Katie was lucky she could get a hold of herself before the hospital was called. Any sane person would get professionals after witnessing a seizure. Katie watched her breath fog up the table as she moved her arm so she could see. Capital Cafe was bright, and her eyes stung for a second before adjusting. Katie felt a spike of panic, worried that she was going to go into another episode. Fears dispelled, she watched as people came in and out, names for orders getting shouted over the din of the customers. Katie herself was waiting for her name to be called. She’d ordered some kind of small fruit smoothie. After all, she wasn’t a big coffee or tea fan.

Katie pulled at a loose thread on her sweatshirt; gosh she really hoped she didn’t look too much like a hobo. Katie still had a good amount of cash stashed in the bottom of her backpack, but that wasn’t going to help her get a job or house. Apparently you couldn’t have one without another. Something in Katie shied away from the fact that she really was homeless. It didn’t feel real. Being homeless was reserved for superhero origin stories and grungy drug addicts. But it was really, really real. Katie just couldn’t see where to go from here. She couldn’t see the end, and wasn’t that just terrifying? There were no options. Julie had done everything she could. It was all on Katie now. Katie kicked the bar on the chair beneath her feet. Anything to distract herself. The table she’d chosen was one of those high ones with two tall chairs. She could feel the warm sunlight on the back of her head coming through the window. Katie just wanted a break. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything to fall back on. She could pretend for a while though, right? She wished with all her might that she wasn’t crazy. That this was all some stupid dream she’d wake up from. She wished so hard but nothing happened. No one even knew. The whole world just kept on going. (Without her.)

Katie felt something in her chest. It was so unfair. She felt like a little kid throwing a tantrum, but there was no one watching. No one who cared whether she self-destructed right here. Why was she all alone? What had she done to deserve this?! Did the universe have to pick somebody to be a whackjob? She just wanted to live a normal life, yet it seemed like that was just too much to ask. She couldn’t get a job. She couldn’t get away from her insanity. She couldn’t get a home. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. She grit her teeth. Stupid. Everything was stupid. So why did she feel like the problem?

”Small smoothie for Katie Grasshopper?”

”OH FOR THE LOVE OF–It’s Graushuper!”

James Clark

[James Clark]

It was James' day off. Most people looked forward to not having to go to work, counted down the days until the weekend with dumb little milestones to celebrate. It's 'hump day', half way through the week! It's 'Friday eve', we're almost there! TGIF, my second favorite F word!

James dreaded the weekends. He'd much rather be at work, sucked into the paperwork on his desk, the reports to write, the phone calls to make, the visits to his parolees, the constant worrying about who was going to test positive for drugs this week or who might lose their job or who didn't show up for community service.

It kept him busy, kept his mind occupied. But, on his days off, he had too much time to think--and when he wasn't engrossed in the problems of the people around him, he had no choice but to remember his own.

He wished he could just go home, relax on the front porch with Tabby, watching Sami practice Mohawks on her roller skates in the driveway while Peter drew dragons and Thundercats with sidewalk chalk by the mailbox. That's what dads were supposed to do on the weekends: mow the lawn in the morning, relax in the afternoon and watch the kids, start arguing with his wife about who would start dinner and who would start the laundry.

That's what James looked forward to.

Except... he couldn't. He could only look backwards. That life was lost in the past.

So he dreaded the weekends. He tried to fill the time with whatever he could. This morning he'd run more than his usual 5k, had spent some time at the library scouring news articles, trying to find any evidence of other Gifteds with time travel powers, had wasted another hour walking Gum Shoe, taking him to the dog park and making boring small talk with the other dog owners. Filling the time, trying not to think about his family, wondering if he could make just one hour without something reminding him of what he'd lost.

He'd ended up at Capital Cafe, figuring he should probably drink something after walking around aimlessly for an hour. So here he sat, a half-eaten bagel on a plate before him, a near-full cup of black tea in his hand. He leaned back against the vinyl of the booth, resting his head lazily against the wall as he shifted his gaze away from the young family by the register. The little girl had her hair pulled back in a hard plastic headband. Such a 90s thing, headbands like that. He could just see Sami concentrating on her homework, her hair pulled back with a cheetah headband, little patches of her hair crimped from wearing tight braids overnight, her Lisa Frank trapper sprawled open next to her math spiral and--

James blinked, snapping his attention back to the cafe. He looked at his watch. 47 minutes. It was almost an hour.

Pulling in a deep breath, he leaned forward, wrapping both of his hands around his tea, basically room temperature by now. He broke open a little packet of honey and started dripping it inside his drink, when he heard the annoyed voice of a woman shouting through the quiet cafe.

'OH FOR THE LOVE OF--'

James instinctively tensed, dropping the honey, his right hand hovering over the Glock strapped to his waist. He looked at the woman--someone he'd noticed earlier, the social worker in him unable to ignore her obvious signs of distress. The state of her hair, brushed but scraggly and in need of a good haircut, the old sweatshirt fraying at the seams, the overstuffed backpack slung on the back of her chair, but still kept close like it was her lifeline. He hadn't give her much thought beyond that, but now she was yelling at the poor pimple-faced teenager behind the counter like--

'--It’s Graushuper!'

James leaned forward in surprise, his left hand knocking his drink off the table, the tea falling to the ground and splashing all over his right leg, soaking into the material and pooling around the floor. "Graus...huper?" He wasn't sure if he whispered the name or shouted it. He swallowed, staring at the young woman with utter confusion, his chest suddenly too tight. He wasn't sure if he was breathing or not. He hadn't heard that name in decades.

His name.

His real name.

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Oh no. Please no. Katie’s face burned red with embarrassment. Crap. This was the absolute most worst day ever. It was so official now. It would go down in history. Katie couldn’t bear to look up from the table. Okay, deep breath. Gather the courage to look up. Why did she have to yell, though? She couldn’t just keep her mouth shut. All of her emotions were running on overdrive and now she’d just blown up for almost no reason. The whole store must be looking at her. Vaguely, Katie registered a small clattering sound. Damn, damn, damn. Right; looking up. Courage. All the good stuff. It took Katie another few seconds before she actually won the internal battle of moving from her frozen position. Stand up. Katie stood up, her legs feeling weak and shaky. She kept her eyes glued to the floor as she instinctively swept her backpack over one shoulder. Take a step. Katie took one step. This process repeated a few more times as Katie forced her attention entirely on her feet. Too soon, she lost that subtle reprieve and became hyper aware of the rest of the shop. There was a stunted silence that was slowly fading. The noise of traffic permeated the space. Katie kept stepping forward. She could feel eyes on her. It was like there were fiery points tracking her every movement. Katie felt her face heat up even more.

She noticed the lip of the counter in the peripheral of her vision. Silently, Katie thanked the universe for ending the impossibly long walk. She reached out and her hands closed around the cool and slightly moist cup. She murmured something between an apology and a thank you before quickly turning away. Her drink was really cold. It had her name written sloppily on the side; ‘Katie Graushuper’. She gave it a death grip as she started moving back towards her table. Katie really wished she hadn’t noticed the spill all over the floor. A small clattering sound. Oh. Great, Katie had gotten someone to spill their drink. (Had he said her name in… shock?) This was perfect. Of course she’d manage to screw up someone else’s day too. She turned on instinct toward the table where she saw a man with a large stain on his pants sitting.

He looked old. Now, Katie would be the first to admit she probably had a bit of a skewed sense of age. But this guy just seemed so worn down, something only years of life should do to a person. He was probably only early 40s, but Katie still felt nervous looking at him. His face was a clear expression of shock. Crap, did she give this guy a heart attack?!? No, no, this was not how heart attacks worked. Katie needed to get a hold of herself. She focused back again on the man. Something about him felt familiar… Had she known him in highschool? She felt like she’d seen him before. Had he been a senior at her highschool? Maybe he was one of the substitute teachers, she remembered a guy who looked kinda like this. What was his name? Oh, whatever, he probably just reminded her of someone else. It didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t really know what to do, she felt so bad about this.

”I-,” Katie’s voice felt small and she cringed at how awkward this was, “I’m, er, sor- I- uh…”

Katie bit her lip. That was so great. She was so articulate. She should get so many awards for how great she is at talking. Katie’s eyes flicked down again. She squeezed her cup tighter and the top popped off, making Katie jump a little. She scrambled a bit to put it back in place as she turned away. Yep. Like the coward she was, Katie was going to run away from the situation and back to the security of her table. Kate moved to take a step away.

James Clark
OOC: Let me know if there's something I should change!

[James Clark]

James couldn't take his eyes off the girl, watching her every move as she skulked towards the counter to get her drink. It wasn't possible, was it? What were the chances? He needed to see her face more clearly to be sure, but with every passing second, it was more and more obvious. How many other Katie Gaushupers could there possibly be?

He was staring at his big sister.

His big sister who abandoned the family ages ago, disappeared from his life when he was just a little kid. No good-byes, no explanations. Nothing. One day she was there, the next day she was gone. Mommy and Daddy didn't want to talk about it and he'd quickly learned not to bring Katie up. It was too hard to see the tears well up in Mommy's eyes or to hear the broken sound in Daddy's voice. Any big kid knows not to make his parents sad, so he'd stopped asking.

But he'd kept hoping she'd come back. He'd kept looking for her after school, eating his milk and cookies at the high kitchen table, watching the front door to see if she'd come in, all ready and excited to show her the cool yellow-orange leaf he'd found outside. He was so sure she'd come back.

But she never did. She left and ran away and didn't care about him at all.

And then he'd disappeared. Somehow he'd got thrown back in time, where he grew up with no sister anyway. Guess it didn't really matter what time he was in--Katie had left him to grow up all alone either way.

And grow up he did. She was supposed to be 18 years older than him and now he was clearly older than her. Time travel was weird. It messed things up. And this was definitely messed up.

"I--I’m, er, sor- I- uh..."

James blinked, the confusion on his already confused face growing. Yes, she should say sorry! She should say it a million times over! But how did she know what he was thinking? How did she even know who he was? She couldn't possibly know him--and now here she was stammering away--fidgeting with her silly cup top--and what in the world was that cold feeling all over his damn leg?

James glanced down, realizing for the first time that he'd spilled his drink, the room-temperature tea soaking into his pants, the liquid on the floor pooling into a sad brown puddle.

Oh. That's what she was apologizing for.

And now she was inching backwards, preparing to abandon him all over again.

"Wait!" James stood up, realizing he didn't actually have a plan for what to say to her. He quickly glanced around, thinking fast. "Do you mind grabbing some of those napkins?" He nodded towards a dispenser on the garbage can near the wall. Throwing her a friendly grin, he tried to set her more at ease. It was so strange, seeing her again. She was older, yes, but she was still Katie, the same hair, the same eyes. He had no doubts now.

"Hey, don't I know you?" He turned his head sideways, pretending like he was trying to remember her from somewhere. He didn't want to come across as a total creep and immediately scare her away. "You're just very familiar." James paused, trying to come up with a plausible lie as fast as he could. He was usually so good at lying, but seeing his big sister out of nowhere was throwing him off his game. "I'm James Clark." He smiled, shrugging one shoulder. He glanced again at her appearance, the old backpack. He'd always guessed his sister was a runaway, but was she still living on the streets even after all this time?

Maybe he could get her to open up if he hit on the right nerve.

"I used to be in social work," he said, keeping his tone light and conversational, pretending to be more interested in cleaning up the spill on his leg, putting the cover back on his near-empty tea. "Working with foster kids, runaways, the homeless." It wasn't a lie, exactly. He just didn't mention it was back in the 90s/early 2000s.

He glanced up, watching for Katie's reaction.

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie froze. She hadn’t expected the guy to actually call after her. Well, there was no going back now. She spun around a little too fast and her hair slapped her across the face. Great, just great. His request put Katie at ease a little though; it seemed a pretty reasonable thing. She had just indirectly spilled tea all over his pants. She gave a quick nod and moved to grab some of the napkins from the dispenser thing to her left. She listened as he mentioned possibly knowing her and she silently congratulated herself. He was indeed a sub. James. Even his name was familiar. She turned back towards him, napkins in hand.

Wait–social work? Katie’s eyes widened with confusion for a moment before excitement took its place. So James was one of those therapist-social-guys who explained that what she was wasn’t real. (Katie had vehemently argued that what she saw was true.) He might be impressed she was okay now! Some of the doctors at the hospital had congratulated Katie when she had been released. Slowly, that excitement began to die. Because it was a lie. Katie was a liar, liar, liar. She had lied her way out of the institution. She wasn’t okay, she was dangerous. To herself, to others. (That was why mom and dad never came.) Katie’s hands shook. No. She would not be weak right now. She shoved the hand without napkins and the fruit drink into her pocket. There was no way James could know the truth. Katie was fine. Everything was fine. James was a healthcare professional! Focus on that. Her hands stopped shaking. Katie felt her optimism returning. (repress– ignore–pretend. it’s okay. i’m okay)

“Omigosh! That makes total sense, I thought I recognized you! Social work is so cool. I always thought healthcare was awesome. I wanted to be a doctor but… y’know,” Katie gave a sheepish smile, “Uh, sorry about your tea, I need to get a bit of a handle on myself. Not that I’m not doing better now! I guess all that stuff worked, haha. Boy, it must’ve been a real change of pace for you, huh?”

Katie awkwardly motioned to help dry James off with the napkins, but ended up fumbling a bit before settling on trying to hand them directly to him. Katie sighed a bit, and let herself relax. This was normal. Katie was normal. No need to stress.

James Clark

[James Clark]

He laughed pleasantly, putting up one hand to stop her from helping to clean up the spill on his legs. She was so awkward and yet still so sweet, wanting to help in that earnest way of hers. For a second, he felt like a five-year-old again, expecting his big sister to swoop in and fix his mess, grab the napkins and dab the tea from his pants the same way she used to dab the white above his lips after he'd slurp all his cereal milk, teasing him, saying he was too young for a mustache.

Taking the napkins, he smiled, forcing the memory away. He wasn't five anymore. And she hadn't been his big sister for a long, long time, time travel or not. Pressing the clump of napkins against his pants, he tried to soak up some of the tea, dabbing different spots as he talked. "Yeah, definitely a change of pace," he agreed, even though he truly had no idea what she was talking about. Honestly, he was just glad she seemed to think she knew him. From where? He had no clue, but she must have been in some kind of program. Was it drugs? Had his sister been in rehab?

"It's Katie, right?" he asked rhetorically, pretending like he was also remembering her, flawlessly keeping up the ruse. At least it gave them a way to keep talking. "Don't worry about my tea," he said, wrinkling his forehead. "It was pretty tasteless, anyway." He leaned down, wiping some drips that had fallen onto his shoe. "I'm glad you're out and about," he said, not entirely sure what he meant by that, but pretty certain it would mean something to her.

Straightening back up, he allowed himself a quick moment to study her, really taking in the girl before him, not with the shocked eyes of a long-lost brother, but with the trained eyes of his social worker days. She did seem happy, the same joyful enthusiasm he remembered from when they were both younger. She'd always been bubbly and sweet, seeing the best in everything. But he hadn't missed the sudden excitement in her eyes that had faded quickly, nor the shaking of her hands that she'd poorly tried to hide.

Why did she run away? She'd been happy, as far as James could remember. He was only five, sure, so maybe he didn't see everything, but his birth parents had been so nice, so normal. What could have prompted his sister to leave? A hot slice of anger coursed through him and he felt the sudden desire to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, demanding answers.

No. No, that would not be a great idea. But, he'd find out--one way or another.

He finished dabbing at his pants, not entirely sure what else he could do about the spill. He'd just have to wait for the material to dry now. Throwing the clump of napkins in the trash can off to the side, he picked up the plate with his half-eaten bagel. "Do you mind if I join your table?" he asked, keeping his tone light and friendly, like he was giving her an easy out. "Mine's a little wet," he continued, laying on just a thin layer of guilt, hoping that would be enough. He continued, not really giving her a chance to answer as he started towards her table, keeping the conversation going, easy and simple, just two people talking. "You're doing better now--" He didn't actually believe her about that part (and he didn't think she believed it either). "--where are you living these days?"

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie watched awkwardly as James worked to dry his pants. Oh, she felt so bad. This was horrible. Katie pushed thoughts of guilt away and focused on what James was saying. She hummed and nodded her head at what she thought were appropriate moments. Being social had never been Katie’s specialty, but this was actually going somewhat okay. Katie took a breath. See, she was fine. Her attention remained fully on the man in front of her, and she cringed at the mention of the tea. He didn’t sound mad, though, so she let herself relax. An easy smile found its way on to Katie’s face as they walked. She waited with a little too much excitement for James to talk again. (She just wanted to talk, why was it always so hard?) James started speaking and Katie froze just a foot away from her chair.

“YEss!” Katie exclaimed as she whacked herself in the nose on accident, “I mean uh, no? Er, I-table. Um, I also have a drink, I’m s-sorry about yours. Here. This is my table; I m-mean it’s not my table. This is–table.”

Katie sat down at aforementioned table. She felt stiff, and her hands were sweaty. She tried to force her eyes to focus on one spot, but it didn’t seem to work. She couldn’t do this. She simply could not. She couldn’t even think. Why was it so hard? Was it always this hard? Katie felt useless. Somewhere, she registered that her breathing was speeding up. She looked up, then down again. James had asked where she lived; so normal, so innocent. She’d deflected, right? No, Katie was dumb, but she wasn’t stupid enough to believe she’d actually diverted his attention. She almost wanted to laugh. She was so freaking idiotic. Julie had wasted all her efforts. (Her parents already had, too.) She was a fool and a liar. She already knew that, though. So why did it all hurt? Katie suddenly couldn’t find it in herself to care. It was like ice had rushed through her previously burning thoughts. She felt cold now. Katie decided it was worse. She wanted to give up, but she couldn’t. She wanted to just spill it all out right then and there. But she wouldn’t. She was going insane, huh? (Maybe she already was.) Katie took a sip of her drink.

”What the hell!?!? Who puts apricots in–in anything???”

James Clark

[James Clark]

James' eyes widened in surprise and he froze for just a second, half-sliding into the seat at Katie's table and half-standing--an awkward paralysis. He hadn't meant to catch her so off guard--certainly not to the point of making her hit herself in the face with over-eager enthusiasm. He'd just been so focused on keeping the conversation going, to tricking her into letting a complete stranger (albeit one she thought she remembered) join her. He should have known better than to ask such a hard-hitting question right off the bat.

Grinning, he forced himself to move again, sitting down across from her. He cocked his head slightly, studying her with an expression somewhere between bewilderment and sympathy. He hadn't asked a yes-or-no question, but the overzealous 'YES' followed by the more uncertain 'no' gave him a pretty darn good answer. Either she was homeless (a possibility he'd considered before he'd even realized who she was) or she was slipping back into old habits, living somewhere she knew she shouldn't. His mind raced over the possibilities, his heart suddenly beating faster with increasing alarm. Was his sister a prostitute? He glanced her over, the baggy zip-up hoodie, the homely outfit. Unlikely. A drug addict? He couldn't see her arms, no way to know if there were track marks, but she didn't seem particularly thin or pale. She seemed healthy overall, just... tired.

Tired and lost.

"And a mighty fine table it is," he conceded, patting the table with the palm of his right hand. He decided to ignore her obvious deflection, figuring it was best to establish a little more rapport before he grilled her about where she was or was not living. "Although, I'm not really sure why there's all these electrical outlets everywhere," he continued, pointing at the white three-prong outlet built-in to the table itself, complete with a USB port, which James assumed was just some random hole. He shrugged, glancing curiously from the outlet back to Katie. "My table had one, too."

He had so many questions for her--most of which he couldn't ask without sounding like a complete lunatic. She didn't know who he really was and explaining he was her long-lost brother from another time would be a little tricky. He wasn't even sure he should say anything to her about it at all. What if The Sector found out and ruined her life they way they'd ruined his? What was he even doing, trying to talk to a sister who decided she didn't want to be a part of his life years ago?

He pulled in a long breath, watching her stare at the table, stiff with her fresh embarrassment. His own blood continued to rush within him, his ears pounding with the sound of his own heart. Poking at his bagel with one finger, he pushed it from side-to-side on his plate. It didn't matter how angry he was with her; he still wanted to know her. Besides, he couldn't leave her now, not when he wasn't even sure if she had a place to live or not. At the very least, he could help her get herself going in a good direction.

Besides, if he was being honest, he needed--

'What the hell!?!? Who puts apricots in–in anything???'

James looked up, seeing Katie's disgusted face as she stared daggers at her smoothie. "This just isn't your day, is it?" He offered her a warm smile. "Or maybe this place just doesn't know how to make a decent drink." He laughed quietly, pushing his own tasteless tea (now basically empty, anyway) further away. So she didn't like apricots. He was getting to know her already!

Funny, though. His son Peter hated apricots, too. He'd complain about the way the dried skin felt rubbery and thick, and the appearance being all wrinkly, like it had been sitting in dirty bath water for too long. Completely unappetizing, hearing apricots described that way. Strange that Katie and Pete would have such a disliking for the same random fruit. Just a coincidence? Or perhaps something hereditary?

"Hey," he said suddenly, "What do you call an apricot in jail?" He paused a beat, before continuing. "Apricaught." He flashed a crooked grin, hoping to set Katie more at ease. Bad dad-jokes always seemed to help pretty much any situation.

Leaning back, he tried to ignore the sudden memories that flooded him out of nowhere. Memories he barely even remembered--tell me another joke, Kitty, c'mon, just one more joke and then I'll sleep--memories he wasn't totally convinced were his own. He shook them from his head, looking down at the wet stain on his pants, wondering how long before it would be dry and if it would leave a visible stain or not.

"So tell me," he looked back at Katie, needing to do some deflecting of his own. What better way than to subtly dig for answers? "Anything you miss about 'all that stuff'?" He gave her an encouraging smile. "A lot of people struggle on their own." His best guess was still that she'd been in some kind of drug rehab.

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie’s head shot up in surprise as James spoke. He was surprisingly calm. Kind of like she hadn’t just spewed nonsensical words in an attempt to avoid his question. He seemed to be making casual small talk. Katie fought with herself in order to pay attention. Hold up, how old was this guy?? Outlets were everything these days. He didn’t look old enough to be asking silly questions like that. Did he get plastic surgery or something? Katie leaned forward and squinted, trying to determine if his face had sustained any medical procedures. Nope. As far as Katie could discern James was not, in fact, a surgery patient. Katie settled back and resumed her previous panicking. She listened intently to what James had to say. Despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor, Katie didn’t loosen up. Her back remained ramrod stiff as she tried to retain his words. Unfortunately, there were quite a few things competing for her attention. For instance, the awful taste of apricot that permeated her mouth. It was all she could taste, and it was gross. It was everything she hated about life in a fruit. She didn’t know why whatever greater being out there decided to punish this world so horribly as to create apricots.

Despite all this, Katie was somewhat grateful for the distraction. She could latch on to that thought, and she wouldn’t have to focus on the reality of her situation. The man, the social worker, sitting right in front of her. Asking questions. Figuring out all the stupid things Katie had ever done. Well, that seemed to have jinxed it. Katie let out a sigh before stopping herself half way through. She was almost sure that would be conversationally inappropriate. She nodded her head meekly as he commented on it not being ‘her day’. Understatement. Katie was homeless, busted an interview, was hanging on a thread with Walgreens, and now here she was embarrassing herself in front of a somewhat-handsome-possibly-old social worker. She couldn’t imagine why James hadn’t commented on her shaky legs or blatant aversion to his questions. If everything was as fine as she wanted him to believe, wouldn’t these things be dead giveaways? Katie braced herself as James prepared to speak again. An apricot pun. Huh. Katie let out an involuntary snort. She was sure it was very unbecoming, but she had bigger fish to fry.

”Y-yeah. I, uh, miss Julie. I don’t, er, I mean she kinda helped me a lot. Funny, right? I guess she always believed in me, y’know? Plus, it was nice to have somebody with me. I might’ve gone insane if I was all alone,” Katie let out a shaky laugh and winked a little with her joke, “Anyway, I’m planning to write to her as soon as I can. I want to keep in touch. But, uh, that’s not super important, huh? I’m kinda just rambling at you. Sorry. I-I’m not struggling, really. Everything’s good. Just, uh, getting things in order.”

James Clark
OOC: Let me know if this is enough to work with!

[James Clark]

James inwardly laughed at Katie's snort, unable to help his satisfaction at having caused his sister to make such an unbecoming sound. It hadn't been his intention by any means--but it was every younger sibling's mission in life to one-up their elder. Maybe a universal rivalry amongst siblings? Or maybe just a pleasant triumph against a sister who had abandoned him?

Grabbing the bagel from his plate, he leaned back and carefully and deliberately ripped a small piece from it. He was great at compartmentalization, finding it easy to hide what he was feeling from those around him (and often even from himself). Somewhere deep down inside, he was spiraling, a mixture of repressed emotions knocking against one another, but James wasn't going to indulge them. Instead, he popped the little piece of bagel into his mouth, carefully ripping off another piece as he turned his full attention back to Katie.

She, unlike him, didn't seem to have any ability to hide her emotions. Her back was unnaturally still, her movements shaky, her panic plainly showing on her face. He'd already tried to calm her down with his easy small talk, but he'd need to take a more direct approach. It was ironic, really. If either of them should be freaking out more, it was probably him: Katie didn't even know who he was.

An odd feeling swept over James, one he couldn't quite identify. On the one hand, he felt small and young again, face-to-face with someone he'd always looked up to with complete confidence and trust. And, yet, on the other hand, he looked at Katie and saw someone so young and uncertain that he couldn't help but feel that he was the older sibling in more ways than just time-travel. He didn't like it.

He didn't like it at all.

Swallowing, he let Katie finish her little ramble, wondering what her joking wink meant. They were having a conversation that James was supposed to understand but he really had no idea what she was talking about. "I'm sure Julie would love to hear from you," he said, nodding along, wondering who Julie was. A therapist? A roommate? A nurse? James wasn't sure if he was supposed to know or not.

He leaned forward slightly. "Look, relax, Katie," he said. "This isn't a session. I'm not even a social worker anymore. Now I'm just a--" He shrugged one shoulder, breaking eye contact and looking off to the side. He loved being a social worker, loved working with his teens, loved igniting the little spark behind whatever pain clouded their lives. "--boring guy. A parole officer, actually." He forced himself to look at her again, throwing her a grin. "So relax," he repeated. "But you can be truthful if things aren't going as great as you say they are." He popped the second piece of his bagel into his mouth. "Maybe I can help."

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: sorry it took me forever! lol.

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie let James’s words wash over her. She hummed noncommittally as he mentioned Julie. She wondered if he somehow had met her best friend. It didn’t matter. He was probably just being polite. He soothed some of her nerves, but Katie couldn’t seem to relax her back or stop her hands from shaking. She should be comfortable. There was no reason to feel unsafe around a literal social worker. It was just her stupid brain freaking out over her own mistakes. James wasn’t even a social worker anymore. Katie watched a dull pain flash in his eyes as he told her. Katie gave a sympathetic smile; she knew what it was like to not be able to live your dreams. She muttered an apology he probably wouldn’t hear. He was a parole officer now, it seemed. Katie had known a kid on parole at her highschool. She wondered if James had ever heard of him. It didn’t matter. She squirmed as James’s next words registered. She couldn’t be truthful. Not with anybody. She was a liar, and she couldn’t seem to tell the truth no matter how much she wanted to. Something stopped her. Despite that, Katie still had to replay the next moment in her head a few times. He wanted to help her?

“Oh.”

Katie guessed it made sense. He was a parole officer who wished he was still a social worker. He probably craved working with the mentally ill again. It was like the perfect opportunity had fallen right into his lap. Here she was exposing herself right to him. A sudden wave of guilt flooded straight to Katie’s core. For thinking he was making a project out of her (even if it might be true). For burdening him with her problems (even though she’d avoided it as much as she could). For lying ( but there was no excuse). She couldn’t stop, though. How could she stop lying? She didn’t know how to breach that. It was like there was an unmovable wall that stopped her from even seeing over to the other side, let alone fixing everything. She couldn’t begin to untangle the way she felt, and so she seemed to involuntarily opt out of even trying. But she was tired and everything was hard. She wanted to have someone to fall back on. She knew she was crazy; she knew she was dangerous. Katie figured she could add selfish to that list. It was stupid to rely on this random guy. She didn’t know him. (It certainly felt like she did, though.) There were a thousand reasons to shrug him off and leave. She should. She would. She’d say that she really was fine and that she’d make it okay. She’d throw that horrid drink away and ignore him ripping his bagel like an idiot. She’d flash him one of those disarming smiles and walk out. She’d do all of that. It’s what she should do. But Katie opened her mouth and none of that happened.

“I-I… I dunno what I’m doing, James. …But I don’t really need to tell you that, do I?–Stop ripping your food–It’s so freaking obvious,” she laughed weakly, “Can–uh, I-I… What are you, um, what are you thinking? Cus… I need help, please.”

[James Clark]

James watched her carefully, a pleasant, easy expression on his face as he slowly chewed the small piece of bagel he'd popped into his mouth. He'd pressed people countless times before, sometimes prodding gently, sometimes pushing hard--so he wasn't surprised to see the internal struggle on Katie's face as she steeled herself up, preparing to push him away.

Honestly, it was probably better for both of them if she did. He couldn't tell her who he really was and, besides, she would probably just leave him again at some point soon. That was her pattern, wasn't it? She was clearly still stuck in whatever destructive cycle now as she'd been in the past. She'd left him before without so much as a good bye...what was going to stop her from doing that again, especially when she barely knew him? Why bother getting close just to have it all ripped away?

He reached for the bagel on his plate, preparing to rip off another bite, when she let the floodgates loose. All pretenses gone, the truth spilled from her in thick waves, her desperate need for help and direction bursting to be shared and heard by someone, anyone. His gentle push had worked: he'd managed to break through the barrier and get her to open up. Usually that gave the social worker in him a little rush of success, a jolt of excitement of a job well done but something dulled the feeling this time around. Maybe because it reminded him of how much he missed his job. Or maybe because this was his sister and a little too close to home...

'Stop ripping your food.'

James cocked his head, surprised by the sudden reprimand of his eating habits in the middle of her confession. He stared down at the bagel on his plate, a small piece hanging on by a tiny thread of bread. He hadn't even realized he was doing it. It used to drive Tabby crazy, too. They'd be out at some five-star restaurant (the kind where every time you took a sip of water some waiter would refill the glass and then disappear again) and he'd be there, slowly ripping pieces from his toast or his burger. He had no idea when or why he'd started eating that way but it made Tabby so mad. He missed the way her lips would purse together tightly in a thin line, her cheeks reddening--

James pushed the plate towards the unnecessary outlet at the side of the table, blinking his eyes rapidly. He couldn't think about that. He wouldn't.

He swallowed, grinning at the young woman across from him. She wasn't his wife. She wasn't his sister, not for a long, long time. She was just some lost girl who clearly needed help.

"I didn't have anything specific in mind," James said, shrugging his left shoulder slightly and offering her an encouraging smile. "So let's just take it one step at a time." His glance flicked to her backpack briefly, then back to her eyes. "First things first," he said. "Do you need a place to stay? Because actually I've got a small office room that you could rent out if you want." He laughed, as if he was half-joking, but he was surprised to realize that he was actually quite serious.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, a sharp sudden ache pierced through him. He missed coming home from work and nearly breaking his neck tripping over Sami's shoes and backpack and coat sprawled behind the door ('How many times have I asked you to put away your stuff?') and he missed opening the refrigerator and finding the milk gallon completely empty ('Peter, I've told you to throw out the jug when it's gone. Don't just put it back in the fridge!') and he missed Tabby's handwritten notes on the counter telling him she'd be home at 7 and he'd have to take Sami to volleyball....

James lifted both hands, showing Katie his palms. "I swear I'm not a crazy stalker-guy," he said. "I can give you references from police officers and therapists and all that." An awful, terrifying thought occurred to him. "Also, I am not hitting on you," he continued, grinning. "I truly just need a roommate."

And you're the closest thing to family I've got left, he silently added.


Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: I promised you a post tonight and here it is! again, sorry for being the biggest slowbie ever. I will try to post more quickly next time! *hug*

[Katie Graushuper]

Huh. That wasn’t actually so bad. Katie couldn’t find it in herself to regret spilling everything to James. It occurred to her that maybe one day it would bite her in the butt; even still, she found it hard to care. Here was the opportunity she’d been desperately hoping for served on a silver platter. Sure, Katie knew that there was no way she could hide her schizophrenia forever, but having somewhere to start a life sounded too appealing. She’d cross those bridges when she came to them. James’s offer did seem a little out of the blue, but he did acknowledge that very thing. Surprisingly, it seemed legit. But still part of Katie wondered why he was being so helpful. …Okay, maybe a bit of Julie’s cynicism had worn off on her. Even Katie could see that being helpful when asked for help was kind of the point. She just couldn’t really get why he was offering a room in his own house to some random stranger. He had said he was already looking for a roomie, but Katie still found it awfully convenient. She pushed those thoughts away. Katie wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. (At least not more than she already had.)

”Uh, wow. You kinda read my mind, heh. I was actually just looking for a place. I, um, would really like somewhere to get off the ground, y’know? It’s really great of you to offer, too. Uh, I’d like to, um, take your offer,” the last part came out with a questioning lilt; Katie hated how unnatural she sounded.

~^~^~

While James was fiddling with the keys to his apartment, Katie imagined what would be inside. Maybe he was a plant guy? One of those people with lots of cacti and flowers in pots all over his house. She quickly dismissed this idea, though, because she heard a soft woof from inside. No one had plants and dogs. It simply wasn’t meant to be. James hadn’t really given her any clues on the walk there as to what his style was; so Katie was trying her best, okay? In fact, neither of them had said much beyond logistics. So maybe he had a more simple aesthetic? She decided then that James would be one of those guys who’s got a bunch of those ‘if you look at it one way it’s one thing and another it’s a different thing’ pictures on his walls. That seemed like a social worker thing. Maybe a smoothie machine. He looked like he drank smoothies. He certainly had the build for it. 

Katie heard a click as he opened the door. Looking inside, her face contorted into something like surprise. Uhhhh.... Maybe he hadn’t moved in all the way yet? That was the only explanation. His apartment had nothing on the walls or, like, any furniture. The old boxy TV was on the floor. A stiff looking couch was pushed up against what she assumed was the living room wall. The kitchen was better, with all the proper appliances and the predicted smoothie machine. The only sign the place was lived in was the copious amounts of dog toys on the ground. There was a very clearly spoiled dog sitting on its bed in the living room. Said dog actually got up and started his slow lumbering walk towards Katie. This was a dog that had seen things. He reached Katie and bumped his head against her leg, clearly demanding pets. Katie's hand went down on instinct and she patted his head three times.

”Hiya buddy,” Katie started, angling her head to read his dog tag, “You’re a good boy, Gumshoe.”

He woofed in affirmation, very obviously on a human level of intelligence. Katie was growing very attached to this puppy (yes, puppy, all dogs are puppies) very quickly. Katie looked up and remembered she was here to make a good impression on James. She was admittedly a little nervous given the complete failure her earlier home tour had been. Though, something about James made her feel comfortable. It was probably his social worker-ness.

Katie turned towards James with a smile, ”Are you still moving in?”

For James Clark

[James Clark]

The walk from the coffee shop to the apartment had been relatively quiet, Katie and James alternating who steered her bike along the sidewalk. He wasn't great at small talk, but the silence between them hadn't been uncomfortable--at least, not for James. It was good, actually, to have a chance to settle his emotions, to process the craziness of bumping into his sister after all of this time. He wasn't entirely sure what his feelings were even now, but the dull sense of calm spreading over him was better than the hot stew of emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. Much like the tea stain on his pants, dry and nearly invisible on the dark fabric, he could let all that fall to the background. Eventually he'd have to deal with lying to her about who he really was, but airing out that dirty laundry could wait for some other day.

For now, he'd focus entirely on getting Katie's life back on the right path. She needed it, obviously. And he was good at that sort of thing. He'd made a career out of it. Should be simple to do without worrying about any of his underlying motives. Right?

Right.

With her bike safely locked up outside, James slipped his key into the apartment door, glancing at Katie for a brief moment before welcoming her in. He wondered if Gum Shoe would immediately sniff out her backpack, whining at the scent of whatever drugs she probably had stashed away. He may be a retired police dog, but his senses were still as sharp as ever, even with the arthritis in his legs getting worse and his eyesight mostly gone. James pulled in a deep breath, preparing himself for a stern reprimand, followed by some encouraging speech about turning over a new leaf and making a new start---

But the dog just ambled over for some pets, his tail wagging back and forth with the slow excitement of an old dog meeting a new friend. James let out his breath, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He was so sure Katie had a drug problem. Shouldn't there be some kind of trace smell left on her (unwashed) clothes? Maybe she--

”Are you still moving in?”

James turned towards Katie, the confused expression on his face shifting into a sheepish grin. He looked around his apartment, realizing for the first time how completely bare and ridiculous it was. His wife would not approve. "Uh, no, I've been here for a few months," he admitted, shrugging one shoulder. "This is scratch," he continued, spreading one arm out towards the empty apartment, a joking grin creeping up his lips. "You know, 'starting from scratch'?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it. Stupid, quoting that awful tearjerker from the 90s (or was it the 2000s?) with Jennifer Lopez and Jim Caviezel. His wife loved that movie. Well, she loved any movie with Jim Caviezel. How many times had they cuddled on their cozy couch, watching Angel Eyes or Frequency or The Count of Monte Cristo, tucked away in their little house, the walls adorned with pictures of their kids and artwork from Hobby Lobby that Tabby had carefully chosen to go along with the soft beige wallpaper they'd put up together?

James ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it into more of a mess. "My wife and I aren't really together right now," he said. He caught Katie's glance for a moment, unable to hide the raw pain shining in his eyes. He let his sentence linger in the air for a moment, needing someone--anyone--to know how lost he was without Tabitha, before quickly changing the subject.

"So, a tour." He walked towards the far end of the living room. "The bathroom's over there," he nodded towards a door slightly cracked open. "And my bedroom's over here." He pushed open a door, revealing a room with a full-size bed and a dresser, neither of which matched each other. A small picture frame (which he'd stolen from his wife's house a few weeks ago) was propped up on the bare dresser. He frowned, realizing how sad and lonely the room looked.

"Um," he pointed towards a small alcove off the living room, which wasn't officially a separate room but had three walls partitioning it from the rest of the apartment, almost like a makeshift dining room or large office. It was currently cluttered with empty kitchen appliance boxes stacked on top of each other. "We can get you a bed and a dresser and, you know, a door of some sort," he smiled, leaning up against the wall.

James cocked his head, nodding at the TV sitting on the ground. "I tried to hook up a DVD player, but I can't seem to get the cords to work right. I think I need some kind of adapter or something, I don't know." He smiled, letting Katie take a moment to drink it all in.

"I'm happy to take the couch for now until we figure something more permanent out." Crossing one foot over the other, he casually jammed his hands into his pockets. "And I see you met Gum Shoe. He's been my buddy for a few weeks. Used to help sniff out drugs with Detective Connors but Connors just moved out of state and couldn't take him so I--we--lucked out."

"So, whaddya think?"


Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy! Only a *little* late. lulz

[Katie Graushuper]

”You know, ‘starting from scratch’?”

Katie did not, in fact, know. James seemed to think it was really funny though, so she graced him with a pity laugh. James didn’t react, though, and Katie saw the distant look in his eyes. Next thing she knew, his eyes were so sad. She was so caught up in his expression, it took a minute for his words to register. The pain coloring his face made a lot of sense now. Katie didn’t think James–a nice social worker guy willing to take up some random Joe off the street–deserved to feel that way. A sudden hot flare of anger at his deserting wife flared up in Katie. She quickly pushed it down, reminding herself she didn’t know a thing about his love life. She hadn’t earned that right in their relationship (even though unexpected protectiveness burned deep inside of her). She still felt obligated to say something, though. There had to be some way to express her sympathy for him. Katie wanted to show she saw him like he saw her. Gosh, that sounded corny. If she waited any longer, she was going to miss her chance to speak.

”I’m so sorry for your loss,” Katie whispered genuinely; then her words really registered, “Uh, not that your wife is dead or anything! Wait–she’s not dead right?”

Oh, not again. There was something seriously wrong with whatever part of Katie’s brain filtered what she said. Katie nearly face palmed, before realizing that would only make things more awkward. Deciding to press on, Katie listened intently to James as he toured her around the small apartment. He definitely needed to decorate. (Katie would be forcing him to do that very soon if things went well.) The only picture in the whole house was on his nightstand–oh, was that his wife? Maybe Katie should lay off about the lack of home decor. Clearly James was going through something. She decided on muttering a ‘thanks’ as he explained the need for a door. As James pointed out the DVD player, though, Katie considered retracting her decision not to tease him. How old was he? These were the kind of mistakes Katie’s grandpa made when he came over on Christmas to make them watch the silent movie version of A Christmas Carol. Katie couldn’t contain a snort at his confusion and remark about an adapter of all things. She left it at that though, deciding to be merciful this day. When James mentioned that he would take the couch, Katie firmly decided that would not be happening for a few reasons. One, she was the one barging into his life. Two, she was polite. And three, she was not sleeping in a boy’s bed that wasn’t her brother’s (usually after a nightmare). However, Katie decided that winning that most likely short battle of courtesy could be for later because now the conversation was about doggies.

”I’ll make sure to keep my drugs out of the house then!” Katie grinned, leaning down to scratch Gum Shoe under the ears, “You're a good drug doggie aren’t you? Yeah, yeah, you’re gonna sniff out all those addicts!”

Frankly, the notion of doing drugs was ridiculous to Katie. She could not understand why anyone started with something they knew was addicting. Katie could list effects of different drugs all day but for now she had more important things to think about, such as the fact James had said we. Katie froze up for a second as she processed that little word. To James, apparently, this was a done deal. Which was great. It was great, right? This is exactly what Katie was hoping for. But now it was real. The danger of a social worker who had counseled with her before–who knew how to identify schizophrenia–living with her. How could she keep that away from her life with James? He was going to find out. …She would just have to leave his life before it's been too long. Before she messes up. As soon as she gets a job, and gets enough money, she has to be outta here. (Somehow that hurt more than it should. James was just a stranger.) But that was a problem for future Katie.

”What do I think? I think that I’m lucky to have run into you. I wanna have a life, and you giving that opportunity to some random stranger… I guess ‘thanks’ is what I’m trying to say.”