Room 322, Saturday Morning

[not_every_mage]

Anders awoke with a start, some half-remembered dream of being chased fresh in his mind. After a second, he relaxed. He was safe in his bed, Dante sprawled mere inches away.

There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

He shifted closer to Dante and closed his eyes again. A few more hours' sleep sounded nice.

Dante	Dante had a lot of powers, but being psychic wasn't one of 'em. Unaware of Anders' decision to do just that, he muttered a half-slurred, half-awake, "G'back t'sleep." He felt consciousness poking at the edges of his brain now, too. Damn it, he needed this sleep after the past week. Waking up all the way would be bad.
Kathy	Sorry, guys. But Kathy had a surprising knack for ruining things. Your ability to sleep in for the morning was pretty much next on her list. She did hesitate before lifting her knuckles to knock on the door. So much had happened between them before she'd died. So many things had been said--or gone unsaid. And part of her wanted to go find the others who had dreamed her back to the island, to put off this reunion for a few more hours. But she owed them more than that. She owed them better than that. Which was why she didn't skulk away, but knocked instead. Like a stranger, when eight months ago, she would have just let herself in. Of course, eight months ago, she hadn't been a dead girl with a day pass to life.
Anders	Ugh. Knocking. Anders waited a moment in hopes whoever it was would go away. When they didn't, he called out an irritated, "We're not here." If he'd known it was Kathy ... he might have done the same thing. He wasn't in a mood to ruin anything right then, not even for a chance to see his dead love.
Dante	"It's the weekend," Dante added. "Get back at like, five PM." Muffled, mind you. He'd shoved his face into the pillow.
Kathy	She should have called to them through the door, let them know who was on the other side. But when she tried, she found her throat too dry to make anything other than a strangled croaking noise. And maybe that was for the best because what if they told her to go away instead? So she simply opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her. Her hand stayed on the knob, however, in case she needed to pull it open in a hurry. You know, depending on how this went. "...Hi," she managed to get out, looking at both guys, curled up together in Anders' bed.
Anders	Anders scrambled then, sliding away from Dante and jerking the blanket higher on his chest. His brain was still too fogged by sleep to articulate the questions he had, or even to fully sort out the mix of sorrow, anger and joy that was sitting heavily in his throat. "Hello, there," he croaked out. "What --?"
Dante	Considering his eyes were shut, it was more Anders' reaction that alerted Dante to the notion something was wrong than anything else. He didn't scramble. He just pulled his head away from the pillow, opened his eyes, and squinted. "... the fuck?" he finished Anders' question, though not on purpose.
Kathy	Kathy had half-raised her hand to wave. It dropped down, first to her side and then to the front, where she clasped her other hand and started rubbing her thumb in tiny circles on her opposite palm. "I...I...I'm back," she said, realizing how paltry an answer that was. "For the weekend." In the back of her mind there was a constantly ticking clock that counted down to when she'd have to leave the island again, this time for good.
Anders	It was amazing, how fast the flare of hope could rise in Anders' chest at the word "back" and fall when she said "for the weekend." So. Another strange weekend, another chance to get his heart stepped on. Of course. "I'm sorry," he said. "Not fair to any of us for you to be back for just a few days, is it?"
Dante	"Jesus fucking Christ," Dante muttered. Anders seemed to be covering the 'rational discourse' part of this. What. What the fuck So Dante could get away with sitting up, not looking Kathy in the eye, and stretching over to liberate a large bottle of rum from the minifridge.
Kathy	Her minifridge, specifically. Though she was glad it was here, rather than collecting dust...wherever the rest of her stuff ended up. She didn't know where she had ended up, never mind the rest of her abandoned belongings. "It's more than I ever expected to get," she said softly. Not that she'd been doing any expecting, exactly, but it didn't seem like the time to clarify that. "But...It hurts, too. Maybe in equal measure." It was very Fandom in that regard.
Anders	"You have that right," Anders said, and looked over to watch Dante retrieve the rum before shyly glancing back to Kathy and softly sighing. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again -- at least, not the real you -- but a weekend's nowhere near enough. I don't know what to say or how to feel, besides confused."
Dante	Dante'd get in the conversation any second now. He just needed to take a huge swig from that bottle first. And then maybe a second. ... And then, just maybe, he'd hold it up for Anders, just in case. "How," he said flatly. He'd never been as wordy as Anders, and this was not a time to start. "And no bullshit, Kathy."
Kathy	"How would I be bullshitting you?" Kathy asked, a little bewildered. She glanced over to Dante's bed, debated taking a seat and decided not to. Things were just a little too...unsettled...Just now. "It's a Fandom thing. Did you have dreams about me this week? Go off into the woods to find a rock?"
Anders	"I had dreams about you," Anders admitted, after a second's hesitation. "But -- that wasn't exactly new. And I don't know about the rock." To Dante, he added, "What does it matter? It's the stupid island again. Like last time."
Dante	"'Cause I didn't know whether it was the fucking island again or she was stopping by just to take off again for the hell of it." ... well. That was were all that anger had gone that he hadn't felt during the last island thing that brought them a Kathy.
Kathy	"The last time...?" Kathy asked, puzzled. And then Dante was talking and she had to look away, jaw clenching. On the one hand, he had every right to his hurt, his fury. She'd done a lot of damage and she'd died fully aware of how much pain she was leaving behind. On the other hand, Kathy had long since grown beyond the girl who had meekly accepted being the target of someone's anger. The guys in this very room had been two of the biggest contributing factors to that. "Will it make you feel better if we do this?" she asked Dante directly. "I'm here. You've got a little under forty-eight hours to give it to me with both barrels."
Anders	Anders snickered. "Bit soon to start talking about him giving it to you," he suggested. "You've been away a while. Might want to start slow."
Dante	Dante's eyes darted briefly to Anders, but they were fixed firmly back on Kathy by the time he said, "Fuck you. You don't get to try to turn this back around on me." Since Anders hadn't taken the bottle, he was gonna go ahead and take another big gulp from it. Sure, if he'd been asked at any other time, he'd have said he didn't exactly want the first few minutes he had with a temporarily alive Kathy to be like this. But anger always came naturally to him, even if he'd gotten better at casting it to the wind since he'd gotten here. (He owed that last one to both people in this room, too. But he'd be loathe to give Kathy any of the credit right now.)
Kathy	"I've only got the weekend," she said, giving Anders a wry smile. "Don't really have the time to slowplay it, you know?" And when she turned to look at Dante again, even that small smile was gone. "You think I'm playing some kind of game? You're pissed. That's fine. You're probably not the only person on the island who is. Fuck, you're probably not even the only person in this room who is." She knew he wasn't. Even if Anders was actually as calm about this as he was trying to appear, Kathy was pretty furious with herself over it. "You think I don't know I deserve it? I'm giving you express, get-out-of-jail-free permission to just let me have it. I've got a weekend to do the impossible and try to make things right, so I'll take whatever you need to give--" And then she was whirling back towards Anders, exasperated. "Now everything sounds dirty!" And she was laughing and crying at the same goddamn time.
Anders	"Welcome to my world," Anders told her gravely. (If he seemed calm, it was only because he was too numb from grief to let himself feel very much. Maker, he was going to be glad to be off the island and done with this merry-go-round.) And then he sighed, reaching for that bottle of Dante's. "Look, things won't be right no matter what, so let's just skip the yelling at each other. We did that plenty last spring and it didn't fucking help."
Dante	"Stop trying to fucking control every--" Dante started irritably, to Kathy, still. There was always a lot of anger with him, boiling under the surface; yelling might not have helped, but it made him feel better. But the combination of Kathy's laughing-crying fit and Anders' plea finally silenced him. Or at least cut him back to a snarly "Whatever."
Kathy	Kathy scrubbed at her face, trying to stop the tears and laughter both. She was on the edge of hysteria here, which wouldn't help matters in the least. But she couldn't help but see the contrast between a few moments ago, when they had both been curled up around each other, peaceful, and now, Anders sounding tired and Dante aggressive. And who'd caused all this? One guess. "I'm--I'm sorry," she said after one last painful, gulping laugh. "I should--I shouldn't be here." In the room? On the island? Temporarily alive? God, at this point even she didn't know. "I'm just making everything worse. I'll just--" What? Go? Stay? She had no idea what the right thing even was anymore. Pity Fandom had never covered the proper etiquette for returning from the dead.
Anders	"Don't do that," Anders said, sounding more solid now that he had the burn of rum in his belly (and also sounding distinctly annoyed at Dante's snarl and Kathy's fragility). "You don't even mean that, so don't say it. Anyhow, what would you do if you left?"
Dante	"You're here now, anyway." Dante would be happiest to just sit here and scowl, at this point. Shitting hell. The reality of it all was just beginning to sink in.
Kathy	"Find the others who dreamed of me," Kathy said simply. There had been others, yes, But these two were first. Always first. "Eat at Luke's. Go running." She sat, back to the door, arms wrapped around her knees. "Basically, remember what being alive feels like for as long as I am."
Anders	"Fine. Go do that," Anders said, as the anger he'd been successfully setting aside during the conversation rose right to the surface. Kathy had chosen to give up being alive, Luke's and running and everyone on the island, and seeing her sit there and talk about it so pitifully -- He wanted to shake her. He also wanted to cry. His face set into hard lines. "It won't be the first time you took off on us, anyhow."
Dante	Anders was getting pissed. Dante's head actually jerked up in surprise at it; not because he didn't understand it, but because Anders-- wasn't usually the one that did this. About Kathy. He draged his gaze away from Anders and looked at her. And suddenly found himself without much to say.
Kathy	Kathy drew a long, shuddering breath. She'd both expected this response and feared it and wasn't sure how to respond. She wanted to stay. She wanted to argue and work through this. She wanted to believe that this was a test and if she proved that she was willing to fight for them as hard as she'd fought the exes, they'd forgive her. But in the end, this was about lives. Their lives. And she'd forfeited the right to have much of a say in that anymore. "If that's what you want," she said, haltingly, "I'll go."
Anders	Anders shouldn't have been surprised Kathy called his bluff that way, really. The hard part was figuring out how to react to it. "If you want to," he said, voice rough. "If I remember right, you're going to do what you want to now anyhow, so we should just save our breath."
Dante	Dante reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What he means is he's pissed as hell but he doesn't want you to go," he muttered, "I'm undecided." ... but leaning more towards Anders' take than he was willing to say out loud. "Shitting hell, Kathy."
Kathy	"I'm sorry," Kathy said, shifting so that she was on her knees, her hands balled into fists and resting on her thighs. A traditional pose, but subtle enough that it was easy to overlook. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this, I don't know if it can be fixed, and I don't even know if I have the right to try." She faltered; looking at them both was difficult, but she refused to look away. "I don't know what I'm doing and I don't know what happens next. One minute I was dead and the next minute I was here and the only thing I knew was that I had to find you. Not even try to set things right, but just because I needed to see you guys so much. I needed to say I'm sorry, as useless as it is now." She was saying things wrong. She wasn't saying enough; she was saying too much, word-walling in the worst way as she struggled to find the heart of what she meant. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for dying. I'm sorry for leaving. Sorry for staying out there. I'm sorry for everything that happened and for some of the things that didn't. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and I'm not sure there's anything I can do. So if you tell me to go, I'll go. Not because I want to, but because I can't pretend that I know what's best. I'm sorry that I was ever stupid enough to believe I did."
Anders	And now Anders was angry and had tears stinging his eyes, which was just great for his composure. He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, as if it might keep his brain in. "Stay," he said, quietly. "I don't know anything either, but I'm willing to admit I'd rather not know anything and have you here as long as you can be. It's not been easy, losing you."
Dante	Maybe Dante should just go. He was pissed off as hell. He wanted to yell. Maybe stomp. Not cry, because fuck crying, he never did that, but-- something. At the same time he wanted to wave his arms and make them be okay, like they'd been a year ago. And then take off, 'cause he didn't belong in the middle of all that. He didn't know what to do with any of that, so he slid out from between the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He should go. He just wasn't sure where.
Kathy	He belonged here now more than she did. Kathy couldn't deny a spark of jealousy that licked up her chest seeing the two of them so comfortably in tucked around each other. She and Anders hadn't often slept together like that--and Dante'd never really cared to try. But she ruthlessly stomped that back down where she could ignore it. What, were they supposed to have stopped living just because she did? Everything they had, she'd voluntarily given up and she had no right to be hurt. That was her mantra, anytime she felt hurt or angry or upset: You have no right, this was your choice, this is what you deserve. "Are you sure?" she asked, ostensibly to Anders, but her eyes were on Dante, who hadn't yet spoken. "I can understand that this probably takes some adjusting to. Adjusting that might be easier if I wasn't here for a bit."
Anders	Anders laughed -- a sound that was small and hysterical and without much humor. "Sure. You go, and he goes, and I'll just sit here and adjust by myself. That sounds fantastically good for all of us." As he spoke, he reached toward Dante, resting fingertips on his thigh. Stay.
Dante	Dante released an audible sigh, but he stilled in place, glancing briefly at Anders. "Not sure there's much to adjust to if it's two days."
Kathy	"It's all that I have," Kathy said, apologetically. "Even now, I can feel the countdown in the back of my head, reminding me that my time here is limited. But whatever time I have, it's yours." She had others she owed debts to, that had dreamed her back into existence. And she would see them, and apologize, and hope for their forgiveness, too. But she hadn't hurt anyone like she'd hurt the guys in this room.
Anders	Anders sighed slightly, willing his body to relax. "I suppose we should try to make the best of it," he said, as though he wasn't sure he believed it. (He wasn't. But it was still preferable to anyone storming off.) "Breakfast at Luke's? This'll all go better if we have some pancakes in our bellies."
Dante	Dante still sounded grudging. If this had just been him alone, he'd still have been yelling at Kathy, or he'd be back in Baltimore right now, getting drunk. But he didn't want to just up and bail on Anders when the guy needed him. "If I gotta be awake, might as well have breakfast."
Kathy	Kathy didn't think the yelling was completely off the table yet. And, hell, she'd welcome it, especially if it were that or the bitter silence of the few weeks before she died. "Pancakes sound good," she said, pushing herself up to her feet. "I'm starved." Because some things even death couldn't change.