[James Clark]

A lot changed since Katie had moved in. They'd spent a few days getting her room set up, putting up a partition to close off her makeshift bedroom, with a curtain for a door and some furniture from the Goodwill. She'd taped some posters of animals up on the walls and decorated with strings of origami cranes that she'd folded. All in all, that one tiny living space was more decorated than anywhere else in James' apartment, but slowly little things kept appearing here and there--a sunflower painting above the microwave, an abstract of circles hung in the bathroom, a vase with fake flowers on the ledge in the living room.

James said nothing, nor made any acknowledgement about the changes, but secretly he wished she'd do more. He liked coming home from work and seeing her sitting on the couch, browsing YouTube videos, or lying on the ground with Gum Shoe, reading a book. They didn't always see a lot of each other-- usually just an hour or two before she headed off for the third shift at Walgreens--but there was something comforting about having her there. He couldn't see his wife or his kids, but being with his sister, even if she didn't know they were related, was just enough to stop the emptiness inside from completing erasing him from history too.

It made 2023 bearable, at least.

"Is it my turn?" James asked, returning to the living room and putting two cups of hot tea down on the coffee table where he and Katie were playing rummy. He settled back into his seat on the floor, picking up his hand again and glancing at the line of cards on the table. He had two aces, Katie had already used the ace of spades in a run, and wasted the ace of diamonds as a one. She was beating him, again. He was down by 100 points. Definitely not his finest game. Maybe he'd suggest backgammon next. He always won backgammon (unless he was letting Tabby win: happy wife, happy life).

Pulling a card from the deck, he bit his lower lip. Another ace? Five aces? Great... He'd counted this deck twice and he was sure there was only 52 cards. Maybe he should stop buying stuff from thrift shops and invest in something new for once. The very thought made his skin crawl. He didn't want to invest in this life, in this year. There was a reason his apartment was so bare and bland. He belonged somewhere else entirely.

He glanced at Katie, a soft smile sneaking on to his face as he watched her stare intently at her hand, concentrating on her next move. Maybe, just maybe, investing a buck at the dollar store for a fresh pack of cards wouldn't be so bad.

James tucked the extra ace behind the two of hearts in his hand, opting to discard a seven of spades, ending his turn. "Oh, I forgot to tell you," he said, motioning to the dog snuggled up against Katie's lap. "Detective Connors is in town visiting his cousin and plans to take Gum Shoe for a night. He's been missing him like crazy but he'll bring him back here again Thursday." James pulled in a deep breath, wondering if he should continue or not, but his curiosity was too strong. He'd been looking for a way to ask this question that seemed natural for days and now was the best opportunity that had arisen so far.

"You know, you're always welcome to invite any family over, too," he said, trying to keep his tone as conversational as possible, even though he was inwardly terrified by how she might respond. "You never really mention any, but do you have any nearby?"


Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

A lot had changed since Katie had moved in. For one, she was now a semi-functional adult with a job. It was strange for a while after so many years of constantly being under supervision. She went to work and came home all of her own accord. It was a little scary, sure, but Katie had determined that she liked having independence. It hadn’t been fun when she was homeless, but this was the kind of initiative people with normal lives had. Plus, she had James. Mildly depressed, really nice, and ridiculously thrifty James. In fact, Katie was pretty sure the deck they were playing rummy with right now was from a Goodwill. Sure, Katie was all for being frugal, but for cards? Seriously? You could get those for a dollar at any corner store. Despite James’s very scant spending habits, he seemed to have allowed Katie to decorate his house a little. Neither of them had said a thing about it, but Katie had put up a few pieces of art and fake flowers in the kitchen. She thought it made the apartment brighter. She just hoped James felt the same way. Honestly, it was Katie’s fear of James being upset that stopped her from getting more stuff. There had to be a reason he hadn’t had anything before.

Katie pushed down any underlying anxiety about James not liking her as a new problem arose. A painful throb shot through her head. Ah, joy. It really wasn’t surprising that Katie’s headache had returned, she’d been struggling since she woke up at one o’clock, but it still sucked. Plus, in her experience, headaches usually precluded schizo episodes. Very fun, especially because James was home. After all, it was the afternoon, and one of the only times they were both awake. Katie considered excusing herself. …But she was winning. She couldn’t let James think she was afraid! After all, Katie was a master of card games. Spending years with only a few things to do and a roommate more than willing to game gave Katie a lot of experience. She was winning by nearly 100 points. James probably had at least one ace in his hand, which meant that if he went out soon, she’d have the upper hand again. All she needed was the last king, and she’d go out. The draw pile was getting smaller, and the fourth king had already been played, So Katie knew that the final king was within her grasp. Either James would dump it into the discard in an effort to get rid of high cards this late into the game, or she’d pick it up. Either way, Katie was going to win. Her headache pulsed at the edge of her consciousness as James came back with drinks. Katie nodded to his question about the turn order, barely looking up long enough to see where he placed the cups. James was talking and Katie’s face fell as she heard that Gum Shoe, the only dog ever, was going away.

”Aww, does he have to? He’s your emotional support animal, James, what are you gonna do when your emotions collapse without him?” Katie joked, pulling out the best puppy dog eyes she could; no pun intended.

Katie’s hand reached down to pet Gum Shoe behind the ear; he was simply the best puppy ever. James was lucky the dog graced him with his presence. Katie supposed, though, that James needed a good doggie like that. She wasn’t entirely kidding when she said Gum Shoe was his emotional support animal. There was something inherently sad about James that made Katie want to give him hot chocolate with as many marshmallows as would fit. Actually, that was a bit weird. James was a grown man, not her little brother. Still, James really did deserve the world. He was generous and kind and made Katie a thermos of really heavily caffeinated tea when she left for work. Katie didn’t know why James was so good to a random schizo like her. He didn’t push about her condition (though he’d asked what she was doing pretty aggressively when Katie took her ibuprofen) and Katie almost felt like she could stay here. She could live here. A dull throb from her headache and James’s next words startled her out of those thoughts.

Katie sighed, not looking up from her cards, ”Oh, well, I’ve got a little brother, but I dunno really know where he is right now. It’s fine, though. He’ll deal. …You can have the 4 of spades, ha!”

Katie’s mood soured as she thought of Avery. She loved her brother like the sun, but she was gone from his life so soon (and for good reason). She wished that she’d been there longer and seen him grow up. Gone to little league games and helped with his homework. She missed him so much it hurt (it was better not to think of him). He would have moved on by now, certainly (he has to have). Either way, her parents would never let her see him (if she saw him again she’d surely ruin him). All that was left of her for him was distant memories and medical terms that told him she was messed up. Katie recognized that she was spiraling a bit, but there really wasn’t much she could do. She felt numb to the panicked thoughts just beneath the surface. One more gentle tap and she’d shatter. But for now, she’d move along like nothing was wrong (what a lie).

James Clark

[James Clark]

James stared at the four of spades she'd discarded with blank eyes, surprised by the sudden piercing pain slicing through his chest. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting. Maybe something about their parents and how she saw them, perhaps some revelation about them being overbearing or having too high of expectations, maybe some explanation for what had driven her to drugs. Maybe some glimmer into the real reasons for why she'd run away all those years ago. He'd been worried that bringing up family might upset her, might drudge up bad memories about her childhood.

...And, truth be told, he'd been worried that it might be too painful for her to think about how her little brother had disappeared years ago. Surely it had been all over the local news: Avery James Graushuper missing. Flyers posted at the local grocery stores, snippets on the nightly news... eventually fading into the last segment of the night, the flyers fading with age, slowly covered with lost pets and upcoming concerts... What terror his parents must have gone through, worried for their little boy, thinking he'd been kidnapped or... He'd been afraid to look up any of his biological family since he'd been back, too scared to learn how his disappearance might have caused them to spiral... He'd dealt with all of his own emotions about disappearing decades ago, but he didn't want to think about his parents and his sister, still possibly so raw and messed up now in the present. He could only deal with the guilt of one family's trauma at a time.

But apparently he didn't need to worry about Katie. She didn't seem to even know that he'd disappeared at all.

And that revelation cut into him more deeply than he'd known possible. With the jagged spear tip of the upside-down-heart of the four of spades that she'd put down on the table before him, she'd discarded him again just like she'd done when he was in preschool. 'Ha!' So nonchalant. 'He'll deal.' She didn't care about him then and she didn't care about him now. She had never bothered to even look him up! A familiar rush of anger erupted from the depths of his heart, pushing back against the sharp pain of her indifference.

Why didn't she care at all?

"My emotions are just fine," James joked back, taking a card from the deck with a little more force than he'd intended. "Trust me, I don't need a dog or any other kind of emotional support. I'm fine." He barely looked at the card he'd drawn, unable to focus on this stupid game that he was losing anyway.

He pulled in a deep breath, narrowing his eyes at the cards for a moment. "You ever think of contacting them?" Stupid question, I know the answer to that one, he thought bitterly. "Families can be tough," he continued, keeping his tone light, years of practice in sessions allowing him to mask the intense anger he wanted to spew at her. Still he glanced at Katie with a hard, judgmental stare. She deserved it, whether she knew why or not. "I've worked with a lot of kids over the years, coming from a lot of different situations, but it's still important to keep in touch with your parents and...whoever."

He discarded the card he'd drawn, hoping that she'd go out soon. "Your turn."

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie shifted uncomfortably. It seemed like James really wanted to get serious. Unfortunately for him, Katie didn’t want to be honest. She didn’t want to talk to James. But… Maybe he was just trying to help. He was a social worker and knew all about her situation. He just wanted to help her work through her emotions. James was good like that. Even if she decided she wanted to, though, Katie didn’t know if she could sort through her feelings. Everything was jumbled and she had never tried to understand how she actually felt. It wasn’t easy to put into words let alone thoughts. She supposed that they had to start somewhere, though. Part of her wished it wouldn’t have to be her family though. It was the most logical place to start, but Katie didn’t like to think about… any of them really. How selfish. She wouldn’t think about Avery even though she’d left him (it was better for him that way though). But… James seemed to think that was what she needed. The look he leveled at her made it clear this wasn't a conversation she could run away from. A flare of pain from Katie’s headache startled her out of her thoughts. She suddenly realized that she’d been staring at her cards, not moving or playing the game. She hoped it wasn’t an awkward pause. She drew a card without really thinking about it. A jack stared back at her.

”Hmm…” Katie paused to think of what to say and discarded the jack, ”I know. It’s important to keep and touch and stuff. Everyone says that. I just never really thought about reaching out myself; especially to my brother,” They would have contacted me if they still wanted me, went unsaid.

Julie had actually suggested Katie write a letter to her parents or Avery. But Katie hadn’t wanted to. It was better… for a lot of reasons. At first it was because there was still a chance they were planning to. It would shatter that illusion if Katie contacted them and they didn’t respond. Then she didn’t want to because she was angry (she’s still angry). If they didn’t want her, she’d prove she didn’t want them either; even if it was a lie. Later it was because she was afraid of what they might say if they did respond. Also, if Katie was being honest–something she rarely was with others or herself–it was because she really did believe it was better that way. Everyone (except Katie) would be happier that way. Avery would grow up normal, without a crazy sister and confusing relationship. Her parents would get what they wanted, too. An easy home. They’d sacrificed Katie for that and she wasn’t going to ruin it now. Maybe if she’d done something sooner… but it was too late now. There was something special about talking with James. She decided it was because he understood. He had met kids like her before and he knew her specifically. She couldn’t hide if she wanted to. And, oh, did she want to. Yet, James was the expert, and he had only ever been good to Katie. He didn’t have to help her, heck, he barely knew her, yet he did. He was her friend, too. He watched romance movies with her even though she knew he hated them. When she came home from work sometimes he’d make her breakfast-diner. She glanced at the game of rummy and cups of tea, and, despite the odds, a warm smile made its way onto her face. Sure, her schedule was wonky but she’d give anything to keep these little moments forever. James made Katie feel okay. That was something she could never repay.

”I think we could all use a little emotional support; even you,” Katie joked, drawing on his previous comment, ”But still, I don’t wanna talk to my family. It’s your turn now–hope you can’t use a jack.”

James Clark
OOC: Let me know if that's enough to work with! 

[James Clark]

Yeah, then I don't wanna talk to *you*. The thought was immediate and intense, juvenile as it was. He felt like a little kid again, his ability to argue stunted at age 5. Her easy nonchalance about the topic only fueled the anger boiling beneath the surface and James clenched his jaw tightly, trying to maintain his composure. She did seem conflicted, yes, nervous and uncomfortable with his line of questioning, but it was still easy enough for her to continue the card game, teasing about whether he could use the Jack she discarded or not.

How could anyone be so cold and indifferent to their own family? Whatever issues she had with their parents, he could understand. She'd been a part of their lives for a long time--and there was plenty that could have happened when she was in junior high or high school that he didn't know about. He knew the relationship between Katie and their parents was strained and difficult, that something significant must have happened. But what possible reason in the world could Katie have for not wanting to talk to her brother? He had been barely old enough to tie his own damn shoes--what could she possibly have against him?

Of all the family Katie had, she especially didn't want to reach out to him. Why single him out as the most difficult option? Shouldn't he be the easiest? They'd always had such a great time together. He only had good memories of Kitty Kat--at least, when she was around, of course. She had left him. She had run away. She was the bad sister. And she was the one who should be reaching out to him, checking in on him, taking care of him. She should at least have attempted to look him up ONCE in the last five years of her life. Too-bad-so-sad if she felt ashamed for leaving. Didn't the sibling bond mean anything to her at all?

Because it sure as hell meant something to James.

"Nope," James said, only trusting himself to get out a single word in response. He pulled another card from the deck, pretending to consider his options as his eyes glanced over all the cards laid out on the table. In truth, he was trying to figure out how to stop himself from throwing his hand down, jumping up and stomping over to his room, giving her a nasty look and slamming his bedroom door.

Juvenile again.

Which is why he did none of those things.

He felt rather proud of himself, actually, for remaining so cool.

But he could tell it wouldn't last long. Unlike Katie, he couldn't just sit here and continue to play cards with a deck that had five aces and a sister that had no interest in knowing him. Not tonight.

He breathed deeply, unable to look at Katie directly. "I think we should probably call it a night," he said, his tone of voice difficult to read. He put his cards face up on the table. "I've got an early start tomorrow." He knew Katie wouldn't believe him--it was way too early for bed--but James didn't feel like coming up with any better excuse. If she couldn't be bothered to care about her long-lost brother, why should he care about coming up with a nice little white lie?

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: I promised you a post this weekend and here it is! Finally!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie blinked. Had she misread that whole situation? No… He had asked about her family. So, what had she done wrong? Katie thought back to everything she’d said, but there didn’t seem to be anything that would rankle James. Really, she’d been more honest and open with him then she’d been in a long time. He could just be tired. Katie glanced at the clock, her head pounding with the movement, but it wasn’t late at all. She still had around two hours before work. Even Katie could catch a lie like that. It seemed more and more that James just… didn’t want to talk. Which Katie guessed was fine, but he had brought it up in the first place. All of the stupid memories had resurfaced for her and now the subject was getting dropped. And it seemed the game was as well. So yeah, Katie was feeling a little bit slighted. A dull throbbing coursed through Katie’s head. On second thought, it probably couldn’t hurt to leave now since it seemed like an episode was coming on. James seeing that was out of the question. It would be horrible to have an attack in front of him. Katie stood on unsteady feet (her foot had fallen asleep) and bent over, picking up the cards.

”Oh. Alright then,” she stuttered, reaching for the tea mugs with her other hand, ”I guess I should be getting ready for–”

There was a shattering sound as one of the mugs slipped and broke on the table. Someone let out a startled yell and it took a minute for Katie to realize it was her. It took another minute for Katie to register that she’d collapsed. She could make out the silhouette of James in front of her, but Katie’s eyes were focused on the playing cards and ceramic pieces in front of her face. Vaguely, Katie knew that she was losing focus of time; dissociating in and out of the moment. She also knew that she was supposed to be feeling the ground or–oh no–the sluggishly bleeding cut on her hand from the broken mug. She didn’t feel it as a drop of blood slid down her wrist and onto the jack of hearts. She could almost hear him laughing, mocking, her. The red was almost the same color as the streamer (there was no streamer) in her hand. The smell of jasmine tea seeping into the carpet mingled with glue (there was no glue) from the poster on the floor. Katie’s only thought as her eyes glazed over was: what a mess.

Marissa laughed as Anne struggled to balance on the ladder propped against the gym wall. Honestly, Anne was regretting volunteering to put up the streamers. She was gripping the blood red one so hard her knuckles were turning white. Her other hand was preoccupied with holding herself steady on the ladder. The janitor had lent them the tool with instructions not to use it unless someone was spotting. That was Marissa’s role in all this; she’d stopped gluing glitter to the homecoming sign to watch out for Anne out of “the goodness of her heart”. Unfortunately, she was doing less spotting and more teasing. “C’mon, Anne, it’s not so bad! Do you need big, bad Jake to come help you down?”

“Shut up!” Anne yelled.

(Katie closed her grip on her injured hand tightly. Her body spasmed a bit as conflicting signals were sent from her brain.

“Shut up!” Katie yelled.)

It was an open secret that Marissa envied Anne for her boyfriend. After all, Jake was the captain of the football team and the objectively hottest guy in the school. Anne and him were the dream couple. Marissa, however, did not see it the same way. She pretended she was fine with them, but everyone in the whole school knew how much she liked Jake. It wasn’t like Anne didn’t feel bad–and she hated that it was putting a strain on her relationships–but it wasn’t like she could dump Jake. Anne looked down, bad idea since she hates heights, and saw Marissa smirking up at her. The height plus the drama caused a hotness to press against the back of Anne’s eyes, but she pushed it down and soldiered on.

(Katie’s head jerked a bit. But unlike Anne Katie’s body didn’t push back against the tears. They streamed down her cheeks as Katie remained unresponsive.)

Thrusting her hand out, Anne pinned the red streamer to the wall with a piece of alien tape. The other side fluttered down in front of the doors. Glancing at the tape, Anne remembered that Marissa had brought extra supplies for the group after they had run out. Technically, it was partially Anne’s fault for letting Mathew use the tape to make… whatever his art thing was. He had said that it was “abstract art for the dance” but in retrospect Anne was pretty sure he was just wasting supplies on purpose. Jake had volunteered to bring more tape but Marissa had jumped up and mentioned that she had an extra roll at home anywhere. Anne was pretty sure that she just wanted to do something for Jake. When Anne looked down again she saw Marissa laughing and pointing to where the other end of the streamer had gone. Matthew had walked straight into the streamer with his horrid tape creation in hand, and was now failing at pulling it off. The best part was that the streamer looked like a floppy tongue coming out of a giant mouth. Marissa laughed, “Now it’s your trash baby, Matt!”

“Really a monster now!” Anne snorted from her perch, dissolving into fully fledged laughter as Matthew turned beat red.

(Katie’s fist thrust forward in front of her. Finally, she opened her hand and went limp. But it only lasted a few seconds.

“Really a monster now!” Katie yelled, laughing wildly.)

Anne smiled.

Katie blinked.

James Clark

[James Clark]

James stood up, very much aware of the hurt look clouding Katie's face. He knew it wasn't fair, knew that she had no clue he was her brother, but he was too angry to care. In fact, he couldn't help the sudden satisfaction that floated to the surface as she stammered out some confused words. He'd been angry at her for leaving most of his life, the kind of fury that dulled and hardened with time but never truly disappeared: the kind that became a quiet tumor, waiting dormant for something to trigger it.

He may have started the conversation tonight but this...friction...between them had begun a long, long time ago. The day she decided to leave, she had broken something that he wasn't sure could ever be truly repaired. He loved having her live here, loved the bright way she lit up the apartment, loved the easy trust and joy that emanated from everything she did--but all of it was tainted by their past. It would be better--easier--if she wasn't his sister at all, but she was, and that made the relationship they were building together here and now so much more important. For her to have no interest, no desire at all to know her family, her brother, it was--

James turned and started to walk towards his bedroom, when he heard the sound of ceramic shattering. He glanced backwards, a sharp look of annoyance. He was just barely keeping himself from exploding at her and now she was breaking the few mugs he owned? Couldn't she just--

"KATIE!" James' eyes widened in fear. She was lying on the ground, collapsed, not moving, her eyes staring off without any focus. Gum Shoe stood up and wagged his tail nervously, barking once. Twice. Three times. James swallowed, rushing to the kitchen and grabbing his work bag, unzipping the outer pouch and pulling out the Narcan spray.

He knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. She was a drug addict, right? He hadn't seen any real evidence, hadn't noticed any particular signs, but that was the only explanation. Right? People had relapses all he time. Right? He rushed to her side, shaking her shoulder. "Katie, can you hear me?" James brushed the hair away from her face, looking at her eyes, which were open and moving, giving James an unsettling feeling, like she was somewhere else entirely. He reached for her wrist, feeling for her pulse. Gum Shoe barked again. James ignored him, counting the beats of her heart. Normal. She was breathing, too.

James looked at the Narcan in his hand, debating. This really didn't look like an overdose.

"Katie, I need you to--"

'SHUT UP!'

James blinked, watching her body spasm unnaturally. What was he supposed to do? An EPI pen? He had one of those, too, but this didn't look like an allergic reaction either. He reached for her shoulders, trying to steady her body, thinking maybe he'd prop her up against the couch, or maybe lie her down on her side. Why was she crying? The tears fell silently down her face but she seemed almost catatonic. "Katie, look at me, I need you to look at my eyes and talk to me."

Katie's fist shot upwards, slamming into James' face, right at his left eye. He fell back, a sudden throbbing at his temple.

'Really a monster now!'

James took a step back, watching his sister laugh uncontrollably, giggling like a little school girl, her face flushing and red. What the hell was she talking about? A monster? What did she think she was seeing? He pulled in a deep breath, his own eyes shifting back and forth wildly, trying to decide what he should do. Narcan? Epinephrine? Slap her in the face?

He'd call 911. That's what. He forcefully shook her again, trying to snap her out of whatever the hell was happening, but she seemed suddenly limp and motionless. He gently let her fall back to the ground, standing up and slowly backing away as her eyes fluttered back open, seeming to find their focus.

He took another step backwards, his face covered with nothing but shock and terror, a bright red welt swelling near his eye. "Katie, are you okay?" He fumbled stupidly by the kitchen counter, trying to find the phone. "I'm going to call the emergency room."

Gum Shoe whined.



Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: Enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie Anne gasped, trying to steady her her breathing. She had been laughing. Not Katie. Not me. A sharp reminder of what was real came from Katie’s hand. Ow, right. Sticky red blood now coated Katie’s fingers from where she’d gripped the open wound. Katie needed to–to… What was she she doing? (Laughing? Nothing was funny.) A gentle bump and sad whine came from the dog next to her. Gum Shoe. Katie was in the living room. Sitting. On the floor. With the mugs. Drinking tea. Playing cards. She’d been playing a game… she was winning… playing a game with James. Holy cow, James.

”Wait–the ER? No James, don’t!” Katie gasped out, barely aware of her own response, “It’s barely a cut!”

Really it was technically a laceration. Not deep enough to need stitches, so Katie was right to tell James off. The most important thing now was to control the bleeding. Katie lifted her hand above her heart. There, step one. She needed to put pressure on it. Wait ten minutes. Then clean the cut. But now she needed to put pressure on it. Maybe James had a cloth or some kind of–he’d need to take universal precautions, too. And wear personal protection… personal… ”This isn’t personal, Katie. This hospital is what’s best for you. They can help you so much better than we can.” It was true. But Katie had betrayed everyone’s trust. (Doctors, therapists, James, her parents.) And now he knew. He saw her. And she was still a coward–after all, she didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to believe it, either, but Katie would still lie in a heartbeat if she could. James had been so good. Always. But Katie wouldn’t be repaying that favor. She really was a coward.

But… What could she do? James could easily put the pieces together. The painkillers. Night shifts. Weird disappearances to the bathroom or ‘going out for a walk’. Katie wanted to laugh. She did. It was a little thing; very quiet and strained. Katie wanted to fight and claw and rip her way out of this. But there was nowhere to put her attention. (There was James.) The ugly welt forming on James’ head only served as a reminder how dangerous she was. Out of control. James didn’t deserve her anger, and she couldn’t bring herself to say another word. (Oh, but she would. She wished she had a reason to hate him now. It would be so much easier to hate him. To scream at him long enough to drown it all away.) Katie reached up and held both her hands to her chest. Her cut was warm but had slowed in its bleeding. The sluggish red made it's way down her hand. Katie couldn’t move. Could barely even breathe.

There was no escape this time.

James Clark
OOC: Let me know if that's enough to work with... this was hard XD

[James Clark]

James blinked twice, not sure what to think or do. Gripping the phone tightly in his hand, he took in the whole scene before him with fresh eyes. She was sitting on the ground, holding up her hand--which he finally registered was bleeding. The little cut from the broken mug shards was nothing compared to the blank look in her eyes and the nonsensical words she'd been spewing just moments before. Did she not realize that she had just been convulsing and throwing punches? Was she totally oblivious to the fact that tears had been streaming uncontrollably down her face? Was she completely unaware that she had been totally unresponsive to any of his attempts to wake her?

She clearly knew something. It was all over her face, like a child caught stealing cookies from the cabinet above the refrigerator. Her little nervous laugh only frustrated him more. This was no time to be brushing this off like nothing had just happened.

The anger from before bubbled back to the surface, mixed with his confusion and worry. He bit at his lip for a moment, staring at her with hard calculating eyes. She seemed okay. She was back to her normal ways, breathing like she should, sitting up and talking. She was clearly back in the present, herself again.

He had no idea what was going on, but he knew one thing: this definitely wasn't drugs.

And, for some reason, that pissed him off even more.

He dropped the phone back on the counter carelessly and pulled a dish towel from a rack. "Katie, what the hell?" He walked towards her, throwing the towel at her bleeding hand. He was too mad and confused to play concerned. "You can't expect me to ignore what just happened. People don't just go crazy!" He snapped his fingers at Gum Shoe, pointing towards the dog bed in the corner. The dog slowly lumbered away, but James' full attention was on the young woman before him. "What was that? It was like you were a--"

He paused, running a hand through his hair. "A different person."

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: Enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie sucked in a breath as James’ face contorted in anger. It was expected… but expecting something and seeing it play out are very different. Katie had thought she’d been prepared for any reaction James might have (after all, she’d uncontrollably gone through every scenario in her head again and again) but hearing the harsh bite of James’ words stung more than she’d ever thought it would. She barely missed the towel thrown carelessly at her, flinching slightly as the missile sailed into her lap. She forced her eyes away from James instead focusing on wrapping her hand with the cloth. Katie prepared herself for a lecture befitting of an angry social worker and stubbornly refused to look up. She expected the broken trust… but not the mocking words. ”People don’t just go crazy!” Katie’s head snapped up, shock coloring her face, despite herself. She couldn’t help the morbid desire to see James as he spit that hateful phrase. He knew what he was doing. If there was one thing she hated hearing it was those words. As if Katie could control it. As if Katie knew why the universe had decided to specifically curse her. Social workers had always pretended, at least, that they weren’t asking the same question as soon as they read her file. They knew, James knew, that ‘accusations can be detrimental to struggling patients’. They’d pry around the edges, though. Asking if she’d had nightmares when she was younger. Subtly prodding around to see if she had any trauma. Trying to discreetly look at her medical file while she was sitting right there. But in the end, there was no reason or rhyme. Katie and James both knew that people do just go crazy.

Red hot coals burned in Katie’s chest as she stumbled to her feet. Of course Katie was a different person. They both knew how her episodes worked. Katie had explained the feeling of being someone else to social worker after social worker. She explained how much it scared her and how much she wished it would stop. James had the freaking gull to lash out in such a petty way. Underneath his generous exterior James was an insensitive jerk. He didn’t deserve to call himself a social worker if this was how low he was willing to go. Disbelief flashed through Katie, but quickly faded into something much more driving. Her cheeks flushed red and the tear tracks on her face suddenly felt cool against her skin. Her eyes darkened as she let out a strangled sound that might have been a sob. (She wanted him to hurt like this, too. Katie had a reason to hate him and it was so much easier than hating herself.)

Katie let her tone reveal the deep bitter swirl of emotion inside, “Real funny, James.” Any reservation she had about being angry towards James had been abandoned. ”You know what? I’m not sorry. You’re a jerk and–and I’d do it again and I wouldn’t feel bad,” she spat, doing her best to hurt James.

But it still seemed like all Katie could do was lie.

James Clark

[James Clark]

James had counseled enough teens and young adults in his life to immediately recognize Katie's sudden shift to anger, most likely some kind of deflection, turning her own fear and pain into an outward weapon rather than letting it cut her up inside. Normally he'd ignore the words, knowing it had nothing to do with him personally, but for some reason he felt the sharp edges of every syllable she spat towards him. He truly had no idea what in the hell she was even talking about but it was painful nonetheless to hear her speak the very words out loud that he'd been so terrified she'd say to him one day.

After he'd first disappeared, he'd bounced from one foster home to another, and he'd lie awake at night, listening to the cars drive past outside, watching the shadows of the headlights moving across the walls. Most of the time, he'd fantasize about his parents finding him, imagining his mom scooping him up into a big bear hug, his dad grinning over her shoulder. But he'd also thought a lot about Kitty Kat, too, the sister that used to rush into his room whenever he cried out. She'd tell him there were no monsters in the closet, nothing bad would ever get him and then she'd take all his stuffed animals and line them up outside the closet door, a special army of protectors just for him. Those were the best nights, the nights he could fall asleep easily, thinking of his brown teddy and stuffed dragon ready to go to battle for him...

But the more time that passed, the harder it was to remember what those toys even looked like...was the bear light brown or dark brown? The dragon's mouth open or sewn shut? ...and then the shadows on the walls just seemed to move slower and slower and the lights would fade into nothing...and no cars ever showed up at his door and no parents ever knocked and no sister ever told him it would be okay. ...so then he'd start to imagine things he didn't want to, like his parents lost in a car accident or washed away at sea or abducted by aliens--and then thoughts of his sister turned sour, too, and all the reasons for why she might have run away, how much she didn't like his constant questions and how annoying his stupid Thomas-the-Train set was and she'd tell him that no... she wasn't sorry for leaving and that no... she didn't feel bad the first time she left, and that of course she'd do it all over again...

James clenched his jaw tightly, trying to focus. Intellectually, he knew Katie couldn't know how painful those words were to him; she didn't even know who he was! But emotions are so often removed from rational thought that often it doesn't even matter.

Pulling in a long breath, James felt for the first time how fast his heart was beating. He could hear it pounding away in his head. He glanced at Gum Shoe, irrationally wondering if the Labrador could hear it from across the room, too. But the dog just lay there, his head on his paws, eyes warily watching James and Katie.

"Katie, what are you talking about?" He turned his full attention back to the young woman, the volume of his voice much louder than necessary, adrenaline racing through his veins uncontrollably. Just minutes ago, she'd had been having some kind of bizarre seizure and he'd been terrified that she was dying. It wasn't normal for people to suddenly collapse on the ground and be unable to wake. It was even less normal for people to act as if that was completely expected behavior afterward.

She was mad at him? Calling him a jerk? What in the hell?

"You'd do what again?" He wiped both hands against the sides of his pants. "I don't find any of this funny at all. You were completely unresponsive, then saying things that didn't make any sense, you really had me sca--"

James cut himself off. "I don't know, I thought you were into drugs but this...I just, you could have--" He looked at the cut on her hand, glad to see that the blood flow was lessening; at the same time, he felt the welt above his eye growing, throbbing and swelling. "I think I'll call 911, this doesn't make any sense, I've never seen anything like that and you--" He trailed off again, speaking mostly to himself, his voice just above a whisper. "Maybe she's in some kind of denial?"

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: enjoy!

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie was getting emotional whiplash faster than she could reasonably handle. She was scared and then angry and then–and then she didn’t know how to feel. She was standing at the top of an insurmountable wall, waiting to fall. Because if she went splat then at least she would have some sense of direction. (Down is always the way she seems to go.) But she couldn’t move. It felt like she was being pressed down by an impossible weight; too complicated to even think about. And that was the thing: Katie wasn’t thinking. All she could do was feel and that was too, too much. She couldn’t think and she didn’t want to feel so Katie settled for the next best thing. It was sharp and loud and everything she needed to ignore the crushing weight holding her down. It rose inside of her like a monster; crazed and furious. It was burning and hot and she could feel it in her throat and eyes. She could feel it in her hand, too. The hand that was bleeding and crying for help but the same hand that left bruises on the man before her. It was painful and injurious. Self-destruction that would bring everyone else down in her wake. Powerful, intoxicating and so many other things Katie couldn’t think to name. (It would make everything worse in the end, Katie knew that. But it felt so good.)

”Maybe you’re in denial. Of course I don’t make sense! Crazy, crazy Katie, right?” Katie almost sings the words, but her voice is sharp and bitter. I’m a dragon spitting fire through clenched teeth.

The thought is sudden and almost poetic. Katie doesn’t even remember what she said, just the feeling of unsatisfactory pleasure in the sting of the words. She wants to claw and scrape and scream until the problem goes away. (So what if she destroys herself doing it?) There’s a certain clarity that comes with that small revelation. Maybe Katie could’ve–could turn this around. Tell him that it’s normal for–tell him something that will make sure he doesn’t call anybody. Because James doesn’t know (it’s hitting her now) anything about her. She doesn’t know anything about James. Crap, she’s been living with him. He lied, didn’t he? He lied to her again and again. He made her life a lie. I’m one to talk. Katie can’t help but think. And, oh, she’s thinking again. She hates it, her mind is a traitor taking away the security of the monster putting fire on her lips. So she pushes and pulls and shapes every conflicted thought into fuel for the fire burning her from the outside in.

(It’s an outlet, like the drum set in the garage so long ago. Katie knows that. She’s not dumb. A therapist told her that taking a step away and examining her emotions would give her control of a situation. A social worker told her that anger could be a defensive emotion, but she couldn’t let it control her. Her eighth grade teacher told Katie it wasn’t good to bottle things up. Her best friend in elementary school told her that talking out her problems could help. Her mom told her that she’d always be there for Katie.)

People lie.

"I-I don't know you. You're–you should know about the episodes. James, who are you?” Katie asks, and the words hold everything.

They are also an echo. It’s a question everyone wants to know the answer to. Is Katie a liar? A monster? A lunatic? A friend? A sister? A daughter? Can she be all these things, truthfully? Katie wants the truth about James–and what a hypocrisy that is. Now she is drowning in her lies and that is dousing the inferno she struggled so hard to build. A wall of fire that kept everything loud and painful and distracting. Like the beating of drums until there’s a ringing in her ears or the sound of her own voice screaming insults. It’s quiet now, except for her heavy breathing and a barely audible whine from the dog across the room. Katie is lost at sea and her thoughts are just of herself for miles and miles and miles (how selfish). She’s not burning anymore, she’s boiling. A simmer like a wounded beast deep inside her chest. She is tired and afraid and she knows exactly how she feels.

James Clark

[James Clark]

"Of course I don’t make sense! Crazy, crazy Katie, right?”

James raised both hands to his head, interlocking his fingers loosely at the back of his hair. He pulled in a sharp breath, staring at the young woman with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Her sing-songy words echoed in his mind, like an annoying melody stuck on repeat; except this was tinged with bitterness and anger and something like...regret? Shame? Guilt? James couldn't identify the emotion behind Katie's stricken words, but he could feel their weight from across the room. This wasn't just something said in the heat of a moment but--James could tell--the revelation of a deep truth that Katie tried with all her might to keep hidden and suppressed.

Crazy, crazy Katie.

All this time James had convinced himself that she was a drug addict--but what evidence did he have to support that theory? It was easy to hold on to that lie. A simple reason to help explain away why she'd disappeared from his life. But, he realized suddenly, he truly had no idea. He'd created a narrative long ago that kept the past neat and tidy and placed all the blame in the right places and gave him all the answers, but all those flimsy cards that he'd built up were starting to fall around him, their little pretend-house collapsing.

Just like she'd collapsed for real, mere minutes ago.

It wasn't a drug episode. It was something worse. She had some kind of...condition. Some kind of mental issue, something she knew all about and tried to keep hidden and something that... that he was supposed to know about.

He could see that realization wash across her face, her eyes growing a little wider, the anger flashing in them with accusing hurt. When they'd met in that coffee shop (accidentally), he'd implied that he was her social worker, had led her to believe that they'd met before in a session. Of course she expected him to know all about...whatever...had just happened. Going half-catatonic and speaking nonsense and crying and punching people---that was all normal for her?

James tightened his fingers around the back of his head, almost like he was trying to keep all his thoughts from exploding out of him at once. His sister was crazy? Totally nuts? Or maybe just slightly off her rocker? What exactly was her condition? He'd been living with her all this time and he hadn't seen anything--although, now, looking back, could he really say there wasn't some odd things that--Is that why she ran away all those years ago? Did she run away? Or did their parents--was she okay now? What was going to happen next? Maybe he should call an ambulance, get her checked out, make sure she didn't--what exactly was her diagnosis? He'd studied a few things in college, but nothing like--

"James, *who are you?*"

Dropping his arms back to his side, James shifted his glance towards Gum Shoe, unable to hide the guilt all over his face. He licked his lips a few times, trying to stop his throat from drying up completely. "I--I told you," he said, forcing himself to look Katie in the eye again. He wasn't going to pretend he had no idea what she was asking, but maybe he could still salvage this. Somehow. "I'm James Clark." He shrugged once, forcing a crooked smile. "I used to be a social worker," he continued. "Just, you know, maybe not your social worker, specifically."

He rubbed at the bottom of his chin, his heart beating faster, his words tumbling out at a similar pace. "I just saw you in that coffee shop and you looked so lost, I wanted to, you know," he shrugged. "Uh, help."


Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: Only a month or two (or three) late. LOL! You shouldn't have told me that you didn't have reliable internet access over the summer. hehehehe.

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie almost wished the man across the room hadn’t answered her. He made it sound so normal. Oh, y’know, he just wanted to help. And maybe if he had told her this a few minutes ago she would’ve believed him. She would’ve wanted to believe him. But now… Katie wanted to be angry. Because she knew. The person standing a few feet away from her was not someone she recognized. He was an impostor in her life and always had been. Katie took an involuntary step back. She wanted to start screaming at him, and let all the anger burn them up, but she couldn’t. She was frozen; forced to think. The man in front of her had to have had a reason. And It certainly wasn’t because he wanted to help. If that was true he would have brought her somewhere to get help. No one randomly picked a girl off the street because he wanted to just help. Why didn’t she think of these things before? The social worker thing was flimsy at best and Katie had just accepted it. She was such an idiot. She was a girl, alone, down on her luck. He was so nice, though. He had been her friend. What could he have wanted? Katie felt something gross tickling in the back of her throat. Today he had asked about her family. Whether she was still in contact with anyone. He had pushed about it until he knew. She startled; the silence had been stretching too long.

Katie let the anger burst out, ”Uh-huh. Sure. That clears everything up. Not so sure of yourself now, buddy? Sorry, but I’ve got you all figured out!”

Katie did not, in fact, have him all figured out. She was still letting whatever fearful thoughts were appearing inside of her manifest as poorly thought-out insults. She knew it, too. But what else was she going to do? She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know how to react. What was she going to do? Something was very wrong here. The man looked guilty–as he should–which meant he knew it too. Katie broke eye contact to avoid whatever emotions she might see in his eyes. The game of rummy she had been playing with James was still scattered across the floor. Things were changing. There wouldn’t be one sided card games or lukewarm tea anymore. The future was terrifying, so much so that Katie shied away from what all this might mean. She didn’t want to think about this. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to hide. She did not want to face this chasm of uncertainty. Her eyes snapped back up to watch him again.

”What are you gonna do now? Ask me out?” Katie scoffed, ”What kind of creep are you?”

James Clark

[James Clark]

All the color drained from James' face, which only made the swelling above his eye more prominent. The place Katie had punched him was still red and, with her last accusation, she might as well have hit him again. "Wh--what?" he stammered, horrified. "No, no, don't get the wrong idea," he threw his hands out, palms up, the words tumbling over one another. It was unusual for him: he was usually so calm, so controlled, so...calculating. "I swear I'm not interested in you that way. I would never even think it. You're my roommate, that's all, and you're--" "--my sister."

He cut himself off just in time, biting the insides of his cheeks. What a disgusting thought! A sick ache swirled in his stomach, threatening to rise up his throat. Him? With her? Together? James swallowed hard, not sure if he actually tasted bile or just imagined it. He closed his eyes, summoning an image of Tabby, letting his wife's face flood his mind. God, he missed her. He wished she was here. What would he give for her to walk in the door right now? She'd probably berate him, give him hell. Remind him this was a mess all of his own making and how stupid he'd been. It was a lovely fantasy.

But--of course--from Katie's perspective, she'd come to a totally reasonable conclusion.

James shifted his weight uncomfortably, focusing his gaze on her cut hand. She still held the dish towel against her wound and he couldn't tell if the bleeding had stopped yet or not. He wanted to ask her how deep the gash was but he remained silent. Changing the subject was probably a terrible idea at the moment.

He shifted his gaze back to her face, but he was too afraid to make eye contact. Katie's anger was too raw and intense. She'd taken a step back from him, maybe more than one, and he could feel her getting further and further away. He wanted to rush towards her, grab her by the shoulders, stop her from retreating. What would it do to him if she left? If she moved out? The apartment would be so quiet, so empty.

James couldn't bear the thought of another person he loved being ripped away.

"Katie, really," he said, trying to keep his voice light and calm, but he wasn't sure how much of his desperation was seeping through. "I'm still in love with my wife and she's the only one I--" James trailed off, not finishing the sentence. He looked down at the floor. "I don't have an...agenda."

He stared more intently at the carpet, each detail of the threads coming into clearer focus. "You needed a place to live and, I mean, I thought you had a drug problem and I thought about my daughter--if you were my daughter, I'd want someone to--"

Tag: Katie Graushuper
OOC Notes: