Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jschlatt woke with a start, heart hammering in his ribs.

He had had the oddest dream.

It had been something akin to a girl’s voice, and she had been banging on all the windows outside his house, screaming to be let in with all the fury and wind speed of a hurricane.

Rain had been pattering on the windows, swirling up a storm outside.

The rain never boded well.

In the dream, Schlatt had hastened to comply (which he now thought extremely unrealistic) and hurried to undo the - for reasons unbeknownst to the old man - comically oversized latch on the door.

While he had struggled to heave the damned thing upwards, the raging, howling shrieks outside had done nothing but intensify in volume.

For some reason, Schlatt’s first thought was that it had been Katie. But since when had Katie reminded him of a category five hurricane? Finally, he had managed to undo the latch.

Outside was definitely not Katie. Atleast, it didn’t seem to be.

She was tall. Even taller than he was, and exquisitely beautiful. That was Schlatt’s first impression. His second had been that she was on fire.

But not in the usual sense.

The fire seemed to be within her, rather than around her. Flickering warmly all across the inside of her skin, which was blurry and transparent, winding across her neck and fanning out into her hair, which was a vivid, almost violent shade of orangey-blonde.

She had worn a veil of purest white - atleast Schlatt assumed it would have been purest white, if it too had not been translucent.

The lower half of her body had melted away into a half-formed ghost, never quite forming a solid shape, seeming to be almost constantly on the move.

But perhaps the most brilliant thing about the strange woman had been her wings.

All four of them.

The central pair sprang out from her back as if she were some sort of angel, fanning and beating constantly, creating such a draft that Schlatt had been forced to hold on to the doorframe. The second pair had protruded smoothly from her neck.

These were smaller, but gold tipped at the end, and as they fluttered, they created the illusion of sparks flying off of her hair.

Lastly, the man noticed a light purple, almost missable star starkly in the middle of her forehead. This too was tipped with yellow around the edges, and from this star all her dazzling, blinding light seemed to glow.

Schlatt had almost passed this feature over, but at the very last, it drew his eye.
He knew who she was of course - he would be a fool if he didn’t. Katarzyna.

That blue eyed goddess people like Ewron spent their whole lives praying to meet.

He had recognised her instantly, as she bore an almost one-to-one resemblance to those statues in that church, up on the hill.

That church was a long way off. So why had she come here?

Schlatt supposed he should’ve felt awed. Should’ve sunk to one knee in fervent thanks for her unexpected appearance, begged to be blessed with the knowledge of what this encounter meant.

What it foretold.

He knew many people who would kill to have met Katarzyna in a dream like he had, but all that Schlatt remembered feeling had been a distinct sense of dread.

A hurricane was barrelling towards him. And he was powerless to stop it.

The man sighed as he slipped out of bed, choosing not to focus on the aching creaks of his joints. He didn’t want to think about what the dream portended - and what possible connection it had with Katie. What did the fact that she liked to barrage his windows every morning to let herself in have to do with a literal Goddess?

Why had he dreamed of Katarzyna in the first place? It obviously meant something - his assumption that it had been Katie, the rain pummelling the windows and his increasing sense of foreboding as the dream wore on all served as proof for that.

But what did it mean? Schlatt sighed to himself.

If Katarzyna had showed herself to him because she thought that he would be able to carry a message - or even that he would understand what she was communicating - then she had thought wrong.

He didn’t have a clue what was going on on the island most days, and he certainly didn’t have the energy to waste on solving obscure, potentially pointless puzzles that some unknown (and maybe even imagined) deity had forced upon him.

He wasn’t going to think about his dream, and he wasn’t going to worry about what it meant either.

In a way, Schlatt got the feeling it wasn’t for him to understand. Maybe he was meant to receive, but not to comprehend. To be informed, but not destined to know why. Or maybe (shockingly enough) his dream was just that - a dream.

There was entirely a possibility that he had conjured the whole thing up, and the only meaning it had was that he needed to take more sleeping tablets.

The fact that he hadn’t had a dream in months, that the statue in Ewron’s church was not in colour in the way his dream version of Katarzyna had been, or that if nothing else the presence of rain had to mean something was lost on the old man.

He was too happy to ignore the signs - too content to be nobody.

So perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised him that his morning was nowhere near as peaceful as he wanted it to be.

In his internal deliberation, Schlatt had barely noticed himself walking downstairs.

It was not often he went anywhere without having his suit on, but he didn’t notice enough to care. He was perfectly within his rights to wear his pyjamas in the comfort of his own home - unless Cucurucho was banning that too, he thought drily.

Stepping off the base of his stairs, he twiddled with his hair for a brief moment, pushing it out of his face in an irritable manner, and began his usual morning walk to the kitchen.

A coffee. Some quiet. And some peace.

…

…

…

Until a resounding knock echoed through the air. He froze. Who was calling now Schlatt realised it was coming from his front door. Whoever it was knocked once… and then kept knocking.

Schlatt paled. Was he still dreaming? Was this the real Katie?

He listened hard, with all his might. His tinnitus interfered with his ability to hear, but the old man was sure he could hear no howling of the wind, no battering of nature against his doors.

And there was not that strange, premonitionary sense he had had before opening the door out to the Goddess. No, if anything he felt normal. A little tired, definitely grumpy yes, but no strange sense of purpose enveloping his hand, guiding him towards the door, swinging it open…

And smacking it right into the person standing outside.

“Ow! Schlatt-? What the fuck?”

Quackity stumbled backwards, clutching his forehead and staggering over. He hit the floor with an audible thud, sprawling out in an unnecessary way to exaggerate the impact of the door hitting him. In the process, his beanie slipped from the top of his head and onto the patchy, grassy earth.

Schlatt trained his eyes upwards. Clear, blue, dazzling skies. It honestly hurt to look at.

It was not raining. He was not dreaming. He looked back down. His unexpected visitor was still lying in the dirt, muttering curses under his breath in a language Schlatt couldn’t quite catch. He folded his arms.

“Quackity?” He said, with something more than his usual nonchalance.

The young man scrambled to pick up his beanie and placed it firmly back on his head. It was inside out. “Who the fuck else?” He snapped.

Quackity stood up, looking rather wobbly. He was covered in dirt.

Schlatt fought the urge not to laugh; considering he was still in pyjamas, he didn’t think Quackity would afford him the liberty. Instead, he settled on an interrogation. “Why are you here?”

His tone was brittle, uninterested. Schlatt knew he was abrasive, not just with Quackity. With everyone. But he couldn’t help it. Sometimes he even got the feeling it wasn’t entirely his fault.

Because as long as people like Quackity kept banging on his doors, treating his personal space like their own, and spending a large majority of their day trying to annoy him, Schlatt would stay abrasive.

…

Not to say he wasn’t having fun, though.

“What, do I need a reason for everything now?” Grinned Quackity, moving closer to lean his arm on the doorframe. Schlatt looked down at him, completely unimpressed. Quackity’s face crinkled as he fought not to laugh.

“No. But you definitely need a reason to show up unannounced at my door.”

The shorter man’s brow furrowed as he looked up at Schlatt. “I’m your neighbour.” He reminded, as though Schlatt had forgotten that little escapade.

“And apparently so is everyone else on this godforsaken island. Goodbye.” Dismissed the ram, resolutely trying to slam the door in Quackity’s face.

However, the latter gave an outraged squawk and grappled with the other side of the door before it could fully close. The pair were now in a kind of standoff, each putting a considerable amount of pressure from their sides of the door, each unwilling to step away.

“Wait.” Quackity stalled for time, voice shaky as he tried not to laugh. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot.”

“What do you mean ‘don’t shoot?’ Who has a gun here?!” Schlatt yelped back, making the entire situation worse by responding to Quackity’s antics by applying more force on the door.

He went as far as to throw all his weight onto it, trying to wrench it shut. Quackity was almost out of view now, and it was clear that he was losing the battle.

“It’s an expression...” Quackity amended sounding amused and whiny in equal measures, “let me in!”

Schlatt gritted his teeth. This was not how he expected this morning to go. “You don’t get to wake me up-“

“You were already awake. I saw you.” Interrupted the shorter, his shoes making audibly scraping against the dirt as he tried not to slide too far backwards.

But Schlatt was relentless in his admonishments. “Barge into my house-“

Unable to stay silent, the former had to chime in. “But I never went inside, I just rested on the doorframe.”

“-And try to break my door!”

Quackity merely gritted his teeth in response. The two struggled for several moments, each determinedly trying to hold their ground.

It was truly a comical sight, both men trying their hardest to level the playing field. Each trying - for some unknown reason - to keep the door from swinging back either way.

Schlatt was stumped, in a sense, because this was pointless - utterly pointless.

What reason did Quackity have to even want to come in his house, let alone try and battle him in the middle of the day?

He just wanted to bother him, that was the end of it. This was his idea of fun - hosting an impromptu wrestling match on either side of Schlatt’s front door where anyone could see them.

…

…

…

“…What the fuck are you guys screaming for?” A rather wearied voice muttered behind Quackity. It startled both of them.

For the second time that day, Quackity let out a shriek, this time letting go of the door.

The sudden release of pressure from his side of things catapulted him backwards, the surprise of hearing someone’s voice behind him causing him to lose his footing.

The door banged open.

Schlatt had still been exerting a lot of force on the wood when Quackity had let go, and now that there was nothing holding this force back, the door swung forwards in earnest.
Stumbling heavily, the surprise almost took Schlatt out too, but he managed to cling onto the doorframe in an ironic imitation of Quackity’s earlier pose to keep himself upright.

In barely any time at all, this had all happened. Schlatt’s mind felt sluggish as he struggled to comprehend it.

He didn’t even think about trying to slow down the doors motions as it (nearly reaching the tether of its hinges) swung right at a flailing Quackity…

Luckily, it missed his face by about an inch. As he was falling backwards, the door only brushed the tip of his nose as he fell. Quackity felt the wind roaring in his ears as the blurry, brown wood swung across his vision for mere moments.

He felt the creak of the springs as the door reached its limit on how wide it could swing, and Schlatt’s curse as he realised it was broken.

Unluckily, his back connected with the person who had just scared him half to death.
He hit them hard, the impact was audible; and the young man was absolutely winded. 

Quackity coughed feebly, pushing himself back upright, using the unknown person’s shoulder as leverage. They were taller than he was, so he had to stretch his arm a bit to reach.

The fabric of their clothing as his hand connected with the outside of their shoulder was unfamiliar to him. It was fuzzy, soft and seemingly thick. Sort of like a big blanket, or worn down carpet. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the person was in a onesie.

Quackity looked up at his half-saviour, half-instigator, and froze. His mouth hung open.

“Sauceboss?” His voice came out weak and breathless.

Schlatt, who had moved from his place (hanging onto the doorframe) to go check on his door’s hinges, whipped his head around at Quackity’s half-hearted greeting.

“B?” He echoed, eyes wide.

Quackity stared at Katie. Schlatt stared at Katie from behind Quackity. Katie looked dolefully back at the pair of them.

“Why didn’t you text that you were coming?” Began Quackity immediately, a broad smile already forming on his face in welcome - before he registered what he was seeing.

In pleasant terms, he thought Katie looked weathered.

In unpleasant terms, she looked like shit.

Her eyes were bloodshot, seemingly from crying, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Her hair was loose, something neither of the men rarely saw, and her lip was bleeding. As she subconsciously started biting it, Quackity realised why.

He also noticed she was restless on her feet, constantly shuffling to and fro. Not in the usual, bubbly, Katie way.

Uncomfortable. Nervous.

The silence stretched like ice. Both parties regarded one another with a certain stillness, the kind of quiet you never expected to get after putting Quackity and Katie within thirty feet of each other.

“You look terrible.” Added Schlatt unhelpfully. It did nothing to break the tension.

Quackity, a man who had never read the room at a single point in his life, felt the need to speak up. In fact, he was halfway towards asking whether Katie needed to be signed up to her own therapy business or not before Katie broke the silence in typical Katie fashion.

By bursting into tears.

She seemed to fold into herself.

First her bottom lip quivered, then her eyes closed, then her shoulders shook.

Schlatt, who had recognised the signs before Quackity, tried to move forwards. He made it two steps before Katie let out a wail and buried her face into her hands.

“I… ruined everything!” She howled in between heaving sobs. Quackity knew he had to spring into action before she started hitting people again.

“Oh, Katie…” he sighed, taking her by the arm and glancing around for somewhere to deposit her.

Spying a bench, the young man gently guided her over, sitting her down on it, and scooted down next to her, reaching his arm up to wind it over her shoulder.

Schlatt was still standing exactly where he had been, head craned round into his front garden, open mouthed and staring at Katie.

When his eyes flicked to Quackity in disbelief, the younger’s gaze hardened, and he gestured furiously for Schlatt to come over and comfort his surrogate daughter.

As if Schlatt had read his thoughts, he shook his head uncertainly.

Quackity insisted silently.

He never did anything silently.

Upon realising this, the older man capitulated. With a much exaggerated sigh and some creaking of his joints, he hobbled his way over, leaning pointedly on the walking stick he kept propped up against the window for the times he had to venture out of the house.

This took Quackity by surprise for a brief moment, as he hadn’t even noticed the thing before.

Well, he had been a little preoccupied…

Probably he would’ve made fun of Schlatt for needing anything close to a walking stick, but he was once again interrupted by Katie’s loud and very outspoken emotions.

“I’m an awful wife!” She cried suddenly into her hands, prompting Quackity to grasp them and prise them away from her face. She seemed genuinely grief-stricken.

“No, don’t say that Katie.” He replied instantly, but he sounded uncertain.

“I am.” She insisted, barely taking note of Schlatt coming to a halt in front of her.

The old man took the initiative, as usual. “What makes you say that?” He asked cautiously, as if the wrong word would make her explode.

Well, with Katie nothing was ever out of the question, Quackity supposed.

Katie’s face was tragic as she shook her head. “I kissed my husband in front of my husband!” She bemoaned, shoulders heaving. There was a poignant silence. Both men blinked at her.

“What?” Quackity asked, completely bemused, all sympathy momentarily replaced by absolute confusion.

Katie wiped her eyes, adopting her usual habit of only elaborating once she was sure people were interested.

“Well, one of them isn’t actually my husband.” She admitted, as if this cleared things up in any way.

Once again, total silence followed her words. The only sound was the distant chirping of unseen, far away birds.

Until,

“Elaborate?” That was Schlatt, scratching his chin and trying to execute the difficult task of making sense of anything Katie was saying.

She took a steadying breath, then two. She did not answer.

Quackity was still holding her hands, and in a rare moment of solemnity, he squeezed them tightly. Strangely, the action seemed to clear Katie’s mind. She inhaled. Exhaled.

She found she had the will to speak.

“You know how Tomate’s my husband right?” She sniffed. Both men nodded in unison. “And how he’s been missing for months?”

They nodded again.

Katie took a moments silence before continuing, evidently searching for the right words to say. “And how I have a weird thing with Multi?”

Quackity nodded, but Schlatt looked confused.

“Who-?” He began, before Quackity shook his head.

“It’s better not to think about it too hard.” He counselled, prompting a shaky little laugh from Katie.

“Yeah…” She agreed, the words hitching on a sob before she breathed in again. “Well tonight… I…kissed Multi.”

Schlatt looked none the wiser while Quackity beamed at her.

This was just Katie being Katie - there was no problem at all! She had made a decision and gotten all uncertain about it after the fact, prompting her to spiral and come here; where she knew there would be people because she heard them yelling.

There was nothing wrong after all - she just needed attention. And there wasn’t anything inherently wrong about that…

“But that’s great news, right? Unless he didn’t want to…?” Quackity said, trying to play into her supposed dramatics.

“Oh, no.  He wanted to.” Hissed Katie. Schlatt frowned as he caught the bitter tone in her voice.

Looking more confused than ever, Quackity changed tactics at the speed of light.

“Oh… no?” He repeated, looking extremely unsure of himself.

Katie smiled again. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh no.” She agreed, “Because Nacho chose tonight of all nights to bring Tomate right to us - just as I was kissing Multi.” She remarked, looking extremely put-out.

…

…

…

“What’s a Nacho?”

“Schlatt, can you please-?!” Began Quackity, before stopping himself, closing his eyes momentarily. “I’m sorry, Katie, please continue.”

“No, no it’s fine I um-“ the woman’s voice cracked as she fought not to cry. Quackity squeezed both her hands again, unsure where this was going now.

Was this more serious than he initially thought?

“Well I pushed Multi off and… Tomate- well. He can’t yell, but he started writing some pretty angry signs.”

Quackity gave a sort of smile, picturing a furious Tomate placing wood everywhere, each promising vengeance upon a dramatically weeping Katie. Then he quickly dismissed himself;

This wasn’t funny.

Katie had stopped talking for a moment, and Schlatt prompted her to keep going.

“And you came here?”

Nodding , Katie tried to swallow. It looked as if she could no longer speak.

“So you cheated on your husband?” Supplied Quackity, trying to be helpful.

“No. Yes? I don’t know?” Panicked the young woman, her words coming out garbled, “Is he really still my husband? Multi’s been more of a husband than Tomate these past months!”

Quackity paused, wanting to make sense of it all. “So you didn’t cheat on your husband?”

It was a vaguely calculated move, designed to gauge Katie’s sense of how important this new development truly was to her. Unfortunately, every move the young man was making seemed to be the wrong one.

“But I did though!” Cried Katie, working herself up into a frenzy, eyes brimming with tears. “Stop asking me questions.”

“Okay, okay, I think everyone needs to calm down.” Yelled Schlatt over Katie’s renewed sobbing, but it was a blanket statement as only one of them wasn’t really calm.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that minute, silence fell over the trio. Katie’s shoulders were still shaking slightly as the last residue of her tears fell.

Quackity looked around slightly awkwardly, unsure if he was allowed to let go of Katie’s hands yet.

On his end of things, Schlatt stared fixedly into the distance. He would have liked to pretend he was trying to deconstruct Katie’s… complicated love life - but that would be a lie.

He was mainly thinking of how ridiculous this was.

He had rolled out of bed this morning after a ludicrous dream that he could make no sense of, instantly been confronted with the absolute bombshell of Quackity’s presence and having to fight to close his own (now broken) door on said bombshell, all before being allowed his morning coffee, and was now having to deal with his surrogate daughters affair therapy session in his own front garden (and ‘affair’ was putting it nicely).

He was still in his pyjamas.

Come to think of it, Katie was still in her pyjamas, and Quackity was covered in mud. And on top of everything else, the clock probably hadn’t even changed to ‘PM’ yet.

“This is ridiculous.” He said aloud. No one responded, but he could see the reluctant agreement in both of their faces. Schlatt pinched the bridge of his nose.

As tired, put-out and inconvenienced as he may be feeling - Katie was his daughter.

And Quackity was… something he’d rather not name right now.

And so he’d do this for them, to help them solve this - if not to get them out of his front garden at least. “Katie.” He spoke, and she jumped up as if she had been woken up with a bucket of ice cold water. Clearly she had been disassociating. “Do you love Tomate.”

Katie stared daggers at him, uncomprehending.

In the background of it all, Schlatt could hear Quackity whispering “wow…”

He ignored it.

“Do you love Tomate? Don’t just splutter at me.” He repeated his question.

“I was not spluttering-“ argued the woman who had just been spluttering, before she was interrupted by Schlatt’s firm voice.

“Katie.”

…

…

…

“I…no.” Katie murmured, and Schlatt could tell that cost her something.

Something that meant a lot to her. Something she would never have dared say without a proper intervention. And as unwilling of a participant as he was, Schlatt was there to provide it.

“So why do you want him to love you?”

Katie’s lip quivered again, and Schlatt thought she was going to resume her waterworks. Quackity went through the motions of giving Schlatt yet another reproachful look and squeezing Katie’s hand tighter - but this time - no tears fell.

“It feels… disrespectful in a way.” Katie explained, and both others fell silent as she finally began elaborating. “I mean- he’s my husband! But these past couple months, I haven’t even seen him.

I know it’s cruel that his first impression with me after that is me kissing another man, but Multi’s been there for me in a way Tomate could never be.

One of the biggest things I need from people is reassurance; that they won’t leave me, that they love me, that they want me to love them.

It just doesn’t feel the same when those words can’t come out of the wooden sign and into Tomate’s mouth. It’s nothing against him - he just can’t give me what I need.” She finished, taking another great breath and looking at the two expectantly.

“And Multi can?” Schlatt questioned, feeling the need to know more.

Katie didn’t hesitate before responding, but her words lost their confidence halfway through. “Yes. I think so. Atleast… I hope so.”

She and Schlatt looked at each other for a long moment, before Schlatt nodded.

Neither were quite sure what this meant, but Katie took it to heart. She seemed to rally slightly, her eyes looking marginally less dull than before as she took hope from her father’s trust in her.

Meanwhile Quackity, who had been entirely following his own train of thought, spoke up,

“I get what you mean about the Tomatito thing. Sometimes when I’m talking Mr Giggles over here it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. Although I guess it’s different in the sense that Tomate can’t speak, but Schlatt is just being a massive dick by choosing not to…”

Katie burst out laughing, while Schlatt’s eyes whipped round to Quackity. “I’m getting sick of your jokes Quacks.” He scowled.

The nickname was meant to mock Quackity, but it came out sounding vaguely endearing. Schlatt obviously realised this, because he wrinkled his nose and sighed heavily.

Now Quackity was laughing, probably because of the unexpected nickname, and Katie could almost forget the weight of her decision; the choices she was expected to make.

She could almost pretend this was a normal day with her mostly normal neighbours, and that everything was alright.

Until…

Quackity, in between fits of laughter, managed to get out, “Katie, where is Multi?”

And the young woman’s face paled. The tear tracks still glistened on her cheeks, but she now looked alarmed instead of deeply miserable. “Oh crap!” Exclaimed Katie, wrenching her hands out of Quackity’s still crushing grip and springing to her feet with an energy Jschlatt could only dream of.

“I left him there with Tomate!”

The reaction from her neighbours was almost instantaneous;

“What?!”

“Aw, Sauceboss, no you didn’t.”

With a dramatic squeak, Katie hovered on the spot, appearing to be extremely torn. “What do I do?!”

“Go! Go get your husband… whichever one that may be!” Quackity urged, and she needed no further telling.

With a speed neither of the two men knew she possessed, Katie sprinted off down Schlatt’s lawn and off the side of the island. They waited with bated breath, until they heard an audible ‘splash’.

She had jumped into the water.

With a bridge being directly to the left of her.

Clearly, she wasn’t in a great state of mind. You probably couldn’t even call it a good state of mind. Quackity exhaled a breath mingled with what sounded like a chuckle, before calling “Go get ‘em Katie B!”

Schlatt looked down at him disapprovingly, but Quackity, who was now stood up, nudged him in the side. “Cmon.” He crowed mischievously.

Schlatt groaned but capitulated. “Oh alright.”

And he turned his attention to the horizon, where a pink blob was climbing her way up the grassy riverbank. “Don’t get into too much trouble, B!” Schlatt urged.

And he could’ve sworn he heard a quiet “as if!” in the distance in response to his fussing. When he turned back to Quackity, the younger man’s smile had dropped by a minuscule amount.

“She’s so fucked.” He remarked casually, as if commenting on the day’s weather.

“Yep.” Agreed the older man, just as casually. “But she’ll pull through. She’s a real boss that one.” He said it almost grudgingly, but it was obvious that he meant what he said. 

“You could almost say she’s a… Sauceb-“

“Kill yourself Quacks.” Said the man in his pyjamas.

And the man covered in dirt shrieked with laughter once more.

Katie was still soaking wet as she made her hurried way towards her HQ. This was the second time she had made this journey today; from Schlatt’s house to her HQ. But this time, she was in such a hurry she forgot she could just teleport there.

Ironic. But maybe she needed the time to herself.

Her thoughts were ablaze with worry.

Tomate was not a violent man, but Multi wasn’t the one she was worried for. He was the one she was worried about.

She knew her co-parent could get dangerous when provoked, and there was no telling how angry Tomate would be now that Katie had sped away without explaining anything.

She was a horrible person. A horrible wife. Tomate had done nothing to her - nothing at all except not be there, and that was not his fault!

Dark Cucurucho was a power beholden to no one but himself. No one could tell what he might do next. He had taken Tomate from her, he had waited for her, stayed loyal all this time.

Loved her, thought of her, never once betrayed her or gave her up.

And what had she done? Found a new family and cheated on him with a crazy traumatised scientist - that’s what.

She had said it was in the interests of putting herself first, but she realised now that it probably hadn’t come across that way. Tomate had no idea who Multi was. He couldn’t know how important Multi was to her, and even if he did, what difference would it make? She had cheated on him, plain and simple.

To Tomate, she must look horrendous. A nauseating example of a total manipulator who took what she wanted and moved on without an inkling of remorse.

How could she explain to him that, through no fault of his own, he had lost her?

And that - in a similar way that he could not be blamed for either - someone else had found her, and gave her a home again.

It was a cruel thing to say to someone. It wasn’t any less cruel when that person was your husband.

She had arrived outside her HQ.

Doubling over, Katie bent her hands on her knees to catch her breath, breathing heavily. Gradually, she started to tune into the environment around her. She could hear it - the shouting. Coming from inside her HQ.

For a moment, she wanted to leave it. Turn around and come right back to where she’d left. To Quackity and Schlatt. To no problems. No feeling. No choices.

But she was here now. In this moment, she was here. Katie wanted to show up for her family. She wasn’t quite sure who she meant by that, Multi, Tomate, Multi, Tomate - that constant internal deliberation - but right now that wasn’t important.

Right now she needed to make the decision to care.

By actions, not words. And the first action she could take was to march into her HQ, scream at whoever she saw first and let the rest happen as the Goddess saw fit.

Great plan, Katie. Absolutely foolproof.

You’ll definitely get them with that one!

No. She didn’t have time to doubt herself anymore. That nagging little voice in her head was of no use to her now.

Katie needed to use her wits to stay alive in this. And despite what others might think, Katie knew she was no fool.

A step. And another, until it snowballed into her walking again. She was outside of her HQ, she was walking up to the front steps. She was there, she was present, she was trying.

She was face-to-face with Multi.

….

…

…

Simultaneously, both of them screamed. Multi flinched as he yelped, but stayed where he was stood. Katie meanwhile did a full jump into the air, scrambling backwards. Multi reached for her, frantically shushing.

“No, no no!” He hissed, eyes darting around randomly. Katie noticed he looked quite dishevelled. “Be quiet.”

Katie shook her head, uncomprehending, but she didn’t try to talk.

Seeing this, Multi relaxed, a tension she had not noticed in his shoulders seeing to evaporate.

Her maybe-husband slumped forwards, and all of a sudden he looked worn down. Beaten by exhaustion and aching all over.

He still looked concerned however, his eyes roving over her as a crease formed in his brow. “Katie…” he began slowly, tilting his head in a minor display of confusion. “Why are you wet?”

She looked down at her soaked onesie, a half-smile worming its way onto her face.

“Ah. Yes, I went for a swim.”

“A swim?” Multi raised his eyebrows, and looked to be about to make a witty retort, but he fell short. On the brink of a response, he closed his mouth and shook his head. He looked… pained now. Hesitant and upset as she had never seen him before.

She knew - of course she knew. The things that must have been discovered, the words that must have been said….

She imagined his heated denial, Tomate’s tearful accusations, poor Nacho’s innocent, stunned bewilderment.

And she had run away…

“Multi…” she began, but she saw immediately that she was getting nowhere. He was shaking his head, looking anguished, and she knew then.

She knew.

And in her desperation, she spoke out loud.

“No, Multi, no-!”

He seemed to be steeling himself, and the words that followed were full of heartache.“We can’t do this, Katie. We just… can’t. It isn’t right, you’re married!”

Terror. She realised. That was exactly what she felt. Terror. Katie; excitable, trusting, naïve, lovely Katie was feeling a kind of fear she had never felt before in her life.

Nacho being in the hands of Dark Cucurucho had not scared her as much as this. Ewron betraying her and giving her up had not scared her as much as this. Cucurucho quite literally killing her and gouging her eye out was nothing compared to what she was feeling now.

And all she could do was stand there and say nothing.

“No…” she croaked, and it was all she could do. “No, no, no-“ her voice cracked and those familiar, eternally annoying tears formed in the corners of her eyes. They were reflected tenfold in the midday sun.

It was a bright, glorious, beautiful day. And Katie wanted no part in it if Multi was not there with her.

Gone were all thoughts of Tomate. If she did spare him a thought, it was to acknowledge that no part of her wanted to be with him now. She only wanted Multi - Multi’s voice, Multi’s touch, Multi’s presence.

And she’s always been oh so good at wanting everything she can’t have.

“No…”

She wanted to yell.

To cry, to storm and to rage. To do everything that Katie normally would have wanted to do. But nothing about this day had been normal so far. Why should this be any different? So all she could do was whisper her declarations to herself and watch them be torn away from her on the wicked, wicked breeze.

The wind was no comfort to her now. In fact, it seemed to be picking up, swirling at their feet.

She realised that it was responding to her in a sense, howling out its outage where she could not. Katie agreed with it tenfold - she wanted it to rage, to storm and to cry.

If the weather could feel a fraction of what she could feel, it would whip itself up into a whirlwind. A category five hurricane with no murder on its mind, no victim in sight. A swirling, screaming vortex of its own anger, spinning violently not for the sake of violence, but to prove it still exists.

Spinning round and round and round again.

“I can’t!” And his voice cracked through the wind like a dart. Straight for her with deadly accuracy.

“I can’t do this to you Katie… I’m not good for you. Not in the way Tomate is. He can be kind and gentle… and caring. I can’t do that, atleast not in the way you want! I’m nothing compared to him. Please, it’s better for both of us if I do this.

Please, kochanie, please let me do this. I will leave, and you can have him.”

“But I want you!”

She was a tornado. And she would destroy everything in her path to reach the sky. She was formed only from herself; shrieking winds and flying debris. Bound to hit anything that came too close.

“No you don’t. Katie. You can’t.”

But he was a storm shelter. Buried six feet underground, her raging inferno couldn’t reach him. It felt like he was dead to her already. He looked dead. Like this was costing him everything he had.

The wind was growing still stronger, and it seemed to wrap around her like a shield, blocking out the pain, but also him, too.

This was costing him. Everything.

In that case, let her give everything she had as well.

“I never want to hurt you Katarzyna!” Multi screamed, clutching the sides of his coat fabric in distress.

And she knew, in that moment. He had her all figured out, didn’t he? He probably knew more than she did about her own self.

“Hurt me? Multi - you’re doing that already!”

And her words were sharp and icy. She sounded unreachable. Perhaps she was - perhaps she was the storm shelter. Cowering underground from the consequences of her own whirlwind.

She did not want to cower anymore.

“You’re doing that already!” She shrieked, howled into the rapidly forming storm clouds. She wanted to repeat it for as long as she lived, to make him understand, to make him stay.

Thunder crackled on the horizon, and it swallowed the sound of her voice from everyone but him.

A picture formed in her minds eye as Katie watched it burn.

Far in the distance, on a lonely little island, two figures were looking up at the sky. One in trepidation, one in dawning realisation.

“It’s Katie. Quackity, don’t ask me how I know… but that’s Katie. She’s doing this.”

“I know, Schlatt. I know, just let her circle. The storm will blow itself out.”

She heard their voices in her mind like a summoning, calling her to action. Now, if ever, was the time to fight.

For him, and for them.

For everything that Katie almost had, and for everything that Multi nearly didn’t. The thunder crackled overhead, and Katarzyna knew this was worth fighting for.

“I’m sorry Katie, but it has to be like this. There isn’t any other way. I can’t have you, it’s more than unfair for Tomate.” He was still talking, working himself up into a frenzy just as she was.

His anger with himself was external, too. His eyes a vivid green, so illuminated that they reflected their own light onto the ground beneath his feet.

The same ground that was being whipped up into dust clouds from the ferocity of the rising storm.

“I love you Multi!”

And through the rippling winds, his face registered shock. Dismay. His eyes met hers, crystalline and unnatural. They were wide as saucers, his pupils dilated as a snake.

Good.

She was stalling him.

She continued, screaming into the swirling air. Anything to keep him here.

“Maybe I always have - I don’t know. That doesn’t matter, because I know I do right now.” She needed no steadying breath now. The words flooded into her mind as if Katie had always known they were there.

Like they were meant for her, a beacon from far flung planet aimed straight for her husband. He was meant to hear them, and she was meant to say them.

Husband, for there could be no question of who that was anymore, she knew she couldn’t afford to question.

“I’m uncertain about things all the time! I know I look confident, but it’s fake. All of it! When I fell in love with you, I realised that this was the one thing I’ve never doubted. I love you, truly, and I think it’s the only fully honest thing I’ve ever been able to say.

I don’t want Tomate! I want you! I want everything that’s wrong with you, and I don’t want to let go of it. If you think for even a second that getting rid of me, or telling me to go, or letting Tomate have me will make me happy, then you’re wrong.” Katie summoned her courage as Multi faltered, his lab coat picking up at the edges due to the force of the whirlwind.

It had shifted now, moving to surround them both - not just her. It was no longer a shield, but a circle, encapsulating the pair in a spinning oval.

Round, and round again…

“And when we started parenting Nacho because - yes! - I was in love with you before then. I didn’t recognise it then but I know I was. I know I still am! But - when we started parenting Nacho I realised how right it felt.

The regime excludes me, and even Mike never fully trusts me to do anything important, but you get me, Multi, and I’ll be damned if I lose you again!” She screamed.

There was a second. A pause. It couldn’t honestly be called silence, as the wind raged and stormed all around them. But it could not reach them. Something, somewhere, was making sure of that. Katie waited, as if for a signal.

And then he broke.

Multi’s face contorted in a silent sob that was lost in a startling crackle of thunder. It struck the ground near Multi’s feet, and he gasped. Somehow, Katie heard him.

It reminded her of an old memory. A wedding day.

Who it had been for Katie wasn’t sure, but the groom had been struck by lightning. Katie had a vague memory of screaming curses at the Goddess above, crying her eyes out and wondering why.

Why would Katarzyna take what was not hers to keep?

She heard herself in response.

Why does anyone do anything?

For love, of course.

And it was love that drove Multi to stagger towards Katie, arms outstretched.

It was love that propelled Katie to stretch her arms out, right back towards him.

It was love that pulled them together into a crushing hug, each gripping the other so tightly it felt as if the indents left upon them were touching their souls, not just their skin. And Multi was crying like a broken man into his shoulder and sobbing,

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I don’t know why I…” his voice breaking at the very end, rendering him unable to finish his sentence.

The storm was dying down.
It was blowing itself out, just as Quackity had said it would.

Katie registered the feel of Multi’s coat beneath her fingers. Ragged and dusty. She wondered about the last time he had washed it.

There was no point, she supposed. Uranium would kill it again, and again, and again.

She knew what she wanted - clear, blue, angelic skies. And a husband beneath her touch who was no camera man. And a man hugging a wife who was no fool.

“I’m so sorry Katie. Kochanie. I swear, I am. I was wrong to think I could lose you, I could never lose you Katie.” He cried against her, holding her so tightly she thought he would never let go.

She returned the sentiment, gripping his back with all the strength she possessed, tears brimming her eyes.

“I’m sorry too Multi. I’m sorry that I ran away and left you to deal with… whatever happened.” She choked out, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

Multi pulled back, a faint smile adorning his still wet face. “It’s alright now. It doesn’t matter, I forgive you anyway. Zawsze ci wybaczę.”

And with those words, although Katie couldn’t understand the last part, the last of the storm clouds faded and died.

The swirling, lashing winds returned the dust it had been whipping around them, akin to a force field shutting itself off. It was like the rest of the world was opened up to them once more.

They remembered that more to the world existed than the space in front of them. The space that the other filled.

The beautiful, radiant summers day returned in full bloom, shining prettily as it had been earlier. Katie gazed at it in wonder, as a softer, calmer breeze began to waft over her, fanning her loose hair about her neck.

And the moment it did, a shout rang across the lawn.

It was Nacho, coming out from Katie’s HQ with a worried look on his pudgy face.

Katie turned to face him, a mother’s love shining unabashedly from her face. She did not let go of Multi, but she loosened her hold on him.

Katie noticed faintly that Multi did not loosen his hold.

He kept gripping her with the fierceness of all his claws. It did not hurt. He had never hurt her in the true sense of the word.

She suspected he never would.

Nacho sprinted towards them as fast as his little legs could carry him, waving his arms around in terror. “Rain? Rain?” He chorused desperately, skidding to a halt in front of his parents for the second time that day. This time, however, they were both smiling.

“No rain.” That was Multi, his arms still firmly around Katie’s waist, grinning softly at his sun. “The sun is out now, Nacho. Look.”

Disentangling himself, but still holding onto Katie, Multi’s free arm reached for the sky, the suns rays in peeking through his outstretched fingers, cascading onto his son below. The bear looked up in awe.

It was as if the storm had never been.

Clear skies. Warm temperatures. Perfect weather. Nothing like the crescendo of a whirlwind that had touched down mere minutes previously.

Katie knew she had caused it. Somehow, something within her had made that happen. An unexplainable, inextricable force had balled up all her rage and screamed it out of her, stirring up the great winds themself to aid it. It was like she was the storm. No, had been (because she was a storm no longer) the storm.

Multi knew this too, she could see it in his face. As much as he tried to smile at Nacho, a spark of worry flickered in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

But they had reached a sort of unspoken agreement that these were questions for another day.
They had experienced far too much in a singular morning for anyone’s liking, and now it was time to rest.

“Come, Nacho.” Katie called gently, beginning to walk away. She felt Multi’s hand still hanging onto her back as he hurried to catch up.

The things he would do to keep a hold on her, Katie mused.

The woman needed no waypoint. She knew where she was going. The reactor.

Multi’s thumb slid across her hipbone in a comforting motion, and she leaned into the touch. The contact simply felt natural for husband and wife.

Nacho skipped along ahead of them, humming a lullaby he had heard as he fell asleep what seemed like a lifetime ago.

When Katie, Multi and Quackity had just rescued him, and he had still been shaking from the reality that he had almost died in that realm. Katie had been singing him to sleep with tears in her eyes.

When he looked up now, her eyes were alight with all the glory of the sun. Her glory, it felt like. Nacho got the sense there was more to his mother’s power than what met the eye. Right now, there was not a trace of sadness. Not a tear to be found.

Things had changed, Nacho realised. And in response to that, he simply hummed louder.

His hand gripping the edge of the pink block from Katie’s headquarters as he stood in the entrance way, his posture hunched, his fur standing on end, Tomate watched the happy family disappear into the distance.

They had seen the whole thing - Katie’s rage, Multi’s reluctance. Their reconciliation, and not a single consequence for the cheaters immoral act.

He had thought he had convinced Multi well.

Impressed upon the scientist how very wrong it was to kiss his wife right in front of him. Tomate had written enough signs to cover the entire room in complaints of his hurt, betrayal and well justified anger.

Multi, if Tomate had to say one good thing about him, had been able to admit his mistake.

The scientist was full of apologies and (apparently empty) promises to never go near Tomate’s wife ever again. But one well-timed look and a few carefully chosen words from Katie, and Multi was putty in her hands. Well, Tomate couldn’t say he didn’t know the feeling.

He loved Katie with every last breath, but his wife needed more than breathing.

She needed life itself, and everything that came with it.

And Multi, the living embodiment of death, could give this where Tomate couldn’t? The bear found it difficult to comprehend.

He never wanted to stand in the way of Katie’s happiness, but he had thought her happiness was with them. He knew Katie spared no thought of them now, but Tomate was all Katie. Katie, Katie, Katie.

Through and through, in and out, by and by, he was hers. And he wouldn’t let one mad, unstable man who knew he wasn’t good for her get in the way of that.

Tomate wasn’t a volatile man. He was everything a good federation camera man should be; patient, understanding, quiet, forgettable.

But let the Goddess help him for what he was about to do.

He would need all the forgiveness he could get; because he could deal with being locked up for months, he could manage his brothers life being threatened right infront of their very eyes, and he could even bear his wife forming an entire new family while they were apart.

What he could not accept was said wife kissing her new ‘husband’ right in front of her real partner. And on the night of his return no less!

Tomate knew he had every right to be bitter. And bitter he was. Not at Katie, no - never at Katie.

At that manipulating, evil, murdering, weasel of a man.

Doctor Multi.

Would Katie hate him for this? Would she scream and cry, holding Multi’s stained lab coat like a lifeline as she raged at Tomate?

He found that it didn’t bother him too much. After all, as their brother always said; it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

So, the Goddess herself would have to hold him back this time.

Or not.

Tomate had a better God, anyway.

Rummaging in his pockets, he pulled out a sign. On it, he scrawled a simple message.

‘Cucurucho.’

The federation worker stepped back.

And he felt the air shift.