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Kate slowly opened the garage door, dreading what she would find inside. The Boss had given her the keys this morning, and said he would have wanted her to have it. The blonde had protested at first, she didn't want to see or even be near it, it brought up too many memories that she has been trying to fight back in the last few days. They were inherently good memories, at least most of them, but that was what stung the most, remembering them hurt, it made her physically sick. The redhead insisted, however, and she had not been in the mood to argue with the stubborn woman.
It was dark and cold inside the damp garage, she couldn't see much beyond the garage door. She hesitantly stepped inside, careful to not step on any stray objects that could be scattered around the room, she knew that the place could be a bit of a mess sometimes. Kate held her hand out in front of her, until she found the wall. She searched for the light switch that she knew was somewhere in that corner. When she felt it, her hand hovered over the button for a few seconds, she didn't dare flick it on for a moment, not wanting to disturb the peace of the empty place by barging in there, making a bunch of noise and turning the light on.
She took a deep breath before eventually applying pressure to the plastic button and illuminating the darkness in a warm, artificial light.
It was still here just as they had left it, as if it had been frozen in time. Kate's stomach dropped as she saw the purple Hammerhead that used to belong to her friend. She cautiously walked around the muscle car, as if she was worried it could wake up from its slumber and attack her like an animal. She cringed at the sight of the many bullet holes that riddled the trunk. The memories of that day were still fresh in her mind, back when he had helped her get her money back from a scammer, after which they got chased and attacked by Brotherhood members.
That had been the first time she had gotten shot.
"Sorry about your car," she remembered what she had told him back then, "once my arm is healed I'll help with the repairs."
The words echoed in her mind, the reverb of her own voice made Kate feel dizzy. She wanted to throw up, but nothing would have come out anyway, she hadn't eaten in days, her appetite had been completely obliterated when she had gotten the news.
“You know, if you want, I wouldn’t mind showing you some moves if you wanna improve.”
Another promise she had not kept repeated itself in her head, she had told him that back when they had first met, yet she had actually never followed up on her word.
She felt weak, useless.
What good were her skills when she never utilized them?
Of what use were her strength and fighting experience when she had never taught Carlos to defend himself?
What did being able to fix cars really mean when she never had gotten around to doing it?
She had told him that she'd patch up his car months ago, and yet, here it stood, just as busted up as the day she had made her promise.
But now the man she had made those promises to was gone.
A wave of utter shame and sadness washed over the blonde as she realized that she would never be able to keep her word. He had never seen his car in a good state again, he died with his last memory of the car being broken.
She walked back towards the front of the car and unlocked the door, the familiar smell from the interior would have usually been a comforting scent, like entering a good friend's home. Now, however, it just reminded her of the days gone, moments in time she would never be able to re-live, conversations she couldn't have anymore.
She opened the glovebox where she found the papers to the car, as well as an assortment of other items such as a lighter, a spare magazine for an NR4, a dirty rag, and a couple of condoms. Kate pushed the seat all the way back to see if he had stashed anything else underneath them, but all she found was dust, small pieces of leaves that got stuck on someone's shoe during fall and then brushed off on the carpet that covered the floor of the car, and two empty shell casings.
She winced as they came into view. They were from the same day, the first time she had fired towards humans, when she tried to take out the Brotherhood truck that had been tailing them. It had taken Carlos’ encouraging and empathetic words to fire these two rounds.
Her head hurt from the flashbacks she got from almost every part of this vehicle, the memories she had from riding shotgun in it, the experiences she had made inside of it. It felt weird, as if they had never happened, and it was all just in her head. She hated that feeling, it made it seem as if she was already forgetting the moments she had shared with Carlos now that he was dead.
She scooted over onto the driver's seat, gripping the cold steering wheel, adjusted the seat and mirrors to her height. She sat there motionless for a couple of minutes, thinking about a thousand things at once. After a while it got difficult to breathe. Starting to feel claustrophobic inside the car, she exited the vehicle and locked it again.
The blonde walked around the car one more time.
She decided that she would keep it. Not only that, but she would repair it, patch it back up to its former glory, and maybe give it a couple of improvements as well. Put a more powerful engine inside, one that didn't rattle like the old one, double exhausts, maybe a small spoiler.
It was time to finally keep her promise, even if Carlos wasn't alive to see it anymore. She liked to think that her friend was watching her from a better place right now, eager to see what she could do with the purple scrapheap that his Hammerhead currently was.
It had been a while since she tuned a car. She would need parts, tools and a workshop, but those were minor concerns. They could probably get all of that from the Brotherhood as they destroyed them and their operations. And she would enjoy every second of it.