Archive of Our Own

Katie had, objectively, experienced bad days.

Well, everyone had bad days. But, this was not one of them.

This one was worse.

Like, historically worse. 

Like “this will be studied in future civilizations as a cautionary tale” worse.

She sat cross-legged on what technically could be called her base— if you were feeling generous, which no one on this server ever was— and stared at her wooden chest as if it had personally let her down.

“Okay.,” she said out loud, nodding like she was in control of the situation. “Okay. This is fine. This is a rebuilding moment. Every successful business owner has one catastrophic failure.”

She paused before muttering: “…Usually not on opening day, but that’s just, like, a technicality.”

Last night had been— objectively speaking, a disaster.

Not like, “oops, we ran out of food” disaster and not even a “minor explosion” disaster. 

Katie could handle explosions. 

She had caused explosions.

She was emotionally prepared for explosions.

No, that was the worst scenario.

It was public humiliation, business failure, and mass food poisoning all wrapped into one neat little bow.

Katie groaned and flopped backward onto the grass, arms spread out like she was about to make a snow angel, except it was dirt and poor decisions instead of pretty snow.

She rolled onto her side, pressing her face into the grass.

It smelled like dirt. 

Which, to be fair, was currently more appetizing than anything she had served last night.

“Well,” she said.

No one responded.

Because there was no one there.

“Okay,” she tried again, nodding to herself. “Okay. That’s okay. That happens. Businesses flunk all the time. This is just— this is just a learning experience.”

Her voice sounded weirdly distant.

Like it belonged to someone else.

Like it belonged to someone who had not just lost everything in one afternoon.

It’s fine, she thought. 

She’ll fix it. 

She always fixes things.

Except—

Her chest tightened.

Because that wasn’t true, was it?

Not really.

Not lately.

Not with Mike, who she was pretty sure she had just let down in the worst way possible.

Not with the Dutch café situation, which was definitely going to spiral into something worse.

Not with—

Katie sat up abruptly.

“Nope. No. Absolutely not.”

She pointed at nothing.

“We are NOT revisiting that. That is between me and whatever entity runs this server.”

Katie pulled her knees up to her chest, staring down at her hands for a second, like if she focused hard enough the thoughts would just… stop.

They didn’t.

“If you decide to do it again.”

She exhaled sharply and leaned forward, dragging her chest closer and flipping it open just to have something, anything, to look at.

“I’ll get you started.”

Inside, tucked into the corner like they hadn’t caused her emotional damage last night, were two small stacks of eggs.

She stared at them.

They stared back.

Which, logically, was impossible. 

Eggs don’t have eyes.

 Eggs can’t feel, think, or judge. 

Eggs did not silently remind you of the worst night of your life and the weird, uncomfortable kindness of your not-so-kind-sometimes  neighbor.

And yet.

“…Don’t,” Katie told them, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

The eggs continued to be eggs.

Unbothered. 

Untouched. 

But filled with potential.

“If you decide to do it again.”

Katie slammed the chest shut.

“Okay!” she said brightly, clapping her hands together once. “Great. Awesome. We’re not doing that. We’re not thinking about that. We are taking a break from the concept of ‘trying.’”

She stood up, brushing grass off her pants with more force than necessary.

“Because every successful businesswoman knows when to step back,” she continued, pacing now. “And reassess. And absolutely not immediately spiral into another terrible decision.”

She paused.

“…Which I will not be doing.”

There was a beat.

She looked at the chest.

The chest, wisely, said nothing.

“Okay, good talk,” she muttered, turning away from it entirely like that solved the problem.

It did not solve the problem.

Because the problem was not actually the eggs.

Or the stupid chest.

Or even the catastrophic failure of KFC (Katie’s Fried Chicken, still not copyrighted, please respect her brand).

The problem was the feeling sitting heavy in her chest, the one she was very actively not naming.

The one that sounded a lot like:

You messed up.

Again.

Katie dragged a hand down her face.

“Nope!” She said, louder this time. “Nope. We are not doing that. We are not having a moment. We are having a day. A normal, productive day.”

She spun on her heel like she had somewhere to be.

She did not have somewhere to be.

So she… stood there.

“…Okay,” she admitted after a second. “We’re workshopping that.”

A soft chime interrupted her train of thought.

Katie froze.

“…Oh no,” she said slowly.

Because there were only a few reasons she got private messages, and none of them were ever good.

She pulled up the message.

It was short.

Of course it was short.

Maximus: We need to talk.

Katie stared at it.

Then she laughed.

Not because it was funny.

But because that was, apparently, the only appropriate response her brain could come up with.

“Oh, that’s— yeah, that’s great timing actually,” she said to no one. “Love that. Love when people say that. That’s never ominous at all.”

She typed back before she could overthink it.

sausebxss: On my way! 

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The walk to Maximus’ base felt longer than usual.

Which was stupid, because distances didn’t just… change.

That wasn’t how space worked.

Katie knew that.

She also knew that her brain was currently doing that thing where everything felt slightly off, like she was walking through a world that had shifted just a little to the left.

“Okay,” she muttered under her breath, kicking a stray block as she went. “This is fine. This is probably just, like, a casual check-in. A friendly mentor conversation. A ‘how are you doing, Katie?’ situation.”

She paused mid-step.

“…Oh, I’m so screwed.”

Because she knew exactly what this was about.

And she knew exactly what she hadn’t done.

“Okay,” she tried again, straightening up. “No. No, we’re good. We’re just going to go in there, be honest, be professional, and—”

She stopped in front of the entrance.

“…Be honest,” she repeated, wincing slightly.

Right.

That was going to be a problem.

Katie took a deep breath.

“Spy mode,” she whispered to herself.

Then, immediately after—

“…We’ll figure it out as we go.”

And with that deeply reassuring plan in mind, she stepped inside.

⋆˚ʚɞ

Maximus was already there.

Which should have been obvious since it’s his base after all.

Katie resisted the urge to turn around and leave immediately, instead deciding to speak.

“Hey, Max!” she said, her voice just a little too bright. “Wow, it’s been so long! How’ve you been?!”

Maximus looked up at her.

There was no smile on his face; but instead an unusual expression.

Katie clasped her hands behind her back, rocking slightly on her heels.

“So,” she continued, filling the silence before it could eat her alive, “What’s up? What’s the— uhm— What’s the meeting about? Is this like a scheduled thing? Should I have brought notes? Because I can bring notes next time—!”

“Katie.”

She stopped mid-ramble.

“…Yeah?”

Maximus didn’t answer right away.

He studied her.

Not in a judging way, but almost carefully.

And somehow, that was worse.

“We need to talk about your mission,” he said finally.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Katie nodded immediately.

“Yep! Yep, absolutely, the mission, I know the mission, me personally I’m a big fan of this mission,” she said quickly. “Anyways the mission has been going great!”

She was not on top of that.

At all.

Maximus tilted his head slightly.

“So you managed to talk to Cucurucho?” he asked.

Katie opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

“…Well,” she started.

Great start.

Fantastic start actually.

“I am… currently in a bit of a transitional phase with that,” she continued, nodding like that meant something.

Maximus said nothing.

Which, again, was worse.

Katie felt her words start to speed up, like they were trying to escape before she could stop them.

“I haven’t, uh— I haven’t seen him. Since. You know. The whole incident before—”

She stopped.

Because Maximus was still looking at her.

Still calm and waiting.

And I’ve been a little busy,” she added, weaker now.

“Busy?” Maximus repeated.

Katie nodded, latching onto that immediately.

“Yes! Busy. Extremely busy. With things. Important things. Like, uh— my KFC.”

She winced.

“Which— okay, to be fair, that did not go well. At all. Like, objectively speaking, that was a disaster. But it wasn’t my fault! Probably... It was definitely sabotage! I’m like, ninety percent sure the Dutch café—”

“Katie.”

She stopped.

Again.

Because that tone—

That was the same tone from earlier.

The serious one.

“Oh,” she said, quieter now.

Maximus sighed, just barely.

“You were supposed to be gathering information,” he said. “Cucurucho is dangerous. This is not something you can ignore.”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Katie said quickly. “I just— postponing it. Strategically! You know, I'm trying to look less threatening…? Like, if I’m not actively seeking him out, then he won’t— uh— seek me out? Like a reverse psychology type of strategy!”

Maximus didn’t look convinced.

“Katie.”

“…Yeah?” she said, quieter now.

Maximus took a step closer.

Not in a threatening way, more  grounding than anything else.

But Katie felt something twist uncomfortably in her chest.

“You need to understand something,” he said. “Cucurucho is dangerous.”

Katie swallowed.

“I know—”

“No,” Maximus cut in, still calm, but firmer now. “You don’t.”

That… shut her up.

Completely.

Maximus continued, voice low.

“It watches. It doesn’t mind waiting or stalking. If it’s avoiding  you, it is not random. It is a decision.”

Katie’s fingers curled slightly at her sides.

“He already knows who you are,” Maximus added. “Or at least— it knows enough.”

“…That’s not very comforting," Katie said weakly.

“It is not meant to be.”

Right.

Great.

Awesome.

Katie forced a small laugh.

“Well, I mean, that’s fine. That’s fine. I can handle that. I’ve handled worse. Probably—”

“If you go to him unprepared,” Maximus said, cutting clean through her rambling, “you will not be in control of that conversation.”

Katie stopped talking.

“You will not be the one asking questions,” he continued. “You will be the one answering them.”

Maximus’ voice didn’t rise.

It didn’t need to.

“You have to remember what I told you the other day,” he said, steady, controlled. “These things have a habit of kidnapping people.”

Katie let out a small, awkward laugh.

“Yeah, I remember but I already told you I’m willing to still take up this mission, right?” she said, waving a hand like she could brush the statement off. “I mean they haven’t kidnapped anyone so far, right? So what are the chances they’ll do it now?”

“Cucurucho has already shown interest in you before,” Maximus states. “But, it has avoided you since. That is not random.”

Katie’s stomach twisted.

“…So what, he’s like— ghosting me?” she tried.

Maximus did not look amused.

“This is nothing to joke about, Katie.”

Right.

Katie rubbed the back of her neck, glancing away.

“I just—” she started, then stopped.

Because how did you explain to your boss that you weren’t avoiding your mission on purpose?

That you hadn’t meant to let it slip?

That everything had just… piled up until suddenly it was too big to look at directly?

“I had stuff going on,” she finished lamely.

Maximus’ expression didn’t soften, exactly.

But it shifted.

Just slightly.

“I know,” he said.

That made it worse.

“I just need you to understand the risk,” he continued. “This mission isn’t something to take lightly”

Katie swallowed.

Her brain, very helpfully, decided to replay every single thing that had gone wrong in the past twenty-four hours.

KFC.

Mike.

The Dutch café.

The eggs sitting in her chest.

“…Right,” she said finally.

Maximus watched her for another second, like he was trying to decide something.

Then—

He stepped closer again.

Close enough that Katie actually straightened a little without meaning to.

“I didn’t give you this mission by accident,” he said.

Katie blinked.

“…What?”

Maximus’ voice stayed calm.

Measured.

But there was something different in it now.

Something more intentional.

“You think I assign any person to do this task  randomly?” he asked. “That I would send just anyone to approach something like Cucurucho?”

Katie opened her mouth. Before closing it.

“…I mean— No?”

“Good,” Maximus said.

He crossed his arms slightly, still watching her.

“You are one of my most trusted spies on this server, who I believe can do this.”

Katie stared at him.

Because—

No.

No, that didn’t sound right.

“I— What?” she said, a little dumbly.

“I mean you blew up someone's house for me; You’re loyal,” Maximus continued. “You talk your way into places you should not be. You can build connections easily. You gather information without people realizing what you are doing.”

Katie blinked again.

Because that sounded—

“Some might say you're easy to read but they’re wrong; you are unpredictable,” he added. “And that makes you difficult to control.”

“…That sounds like a bad thing,” Katie said.

“For most people, it is,” Maximus said. “For this? It is exactly what I need.”

Katie’s chest tightened.

Not in a bad way.

But not in a good way either.

“You are not failing,” Maximus said, steady. “You are inexperienced.”

That hit harder than anything else.

Because it wasn’t harsh.

It wasn’t dismissive.

It was just… true.

“I trust you with this,” he added.

Katie froze.

“I would not have given you this mission if I didn’t.”

There it was again.

That word.

Trust.

And suddenly, the idea of messing this up felt worse than before.

Because now it wasn’t just about proving something to herself.

Now it was about proving something to him.

“…Okay,” Katie said, quieter now.

Maximus studied her for a moment.

Then nodded once.

“Just— be careful,” he said again.

And somehow, this time—

It didn’t sound like a warning, but more like an expectation.

Katie nodded.

“Yeah,” she said, a little more steady now. “Yeah, okay. I will.”

She turned to leave.

Paused.

Then glanced back at him.

“Hey, uh—” she started.

Maximus raised an eyebrow slightly.

Katie hesitated.

Then shrugged.

“…Thanks,” she finished, awkwardly.

Maximus didn’t smile.

But he nodded.

And that was enough.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

Katie did not run.

Running implied panic.

Running implied urgency.

Running implied she had not just walked out of that conversation with her boss, her chest full of something heavy and buzzing and impossible to ignore.

So she walked.

At a completely normal pace.

A very calm pace.

A pace that absolutely did not get faster the further she got from Maximus’ base.

“Okay,” she said under her breath, hands shoved into her pockets. “Okay. That went well. That went— that went really well, actually.”

She nodded to herself.

“Constructive feedback. Light threat of being kidnapped. That’s like totally a normal work environment.”

Her foot clipped a block.

She stumbled.

“Okay—!” she snapped, catching herself and immediately pointing at the ground like it had personally wronged her. “We’re not doing that today. No tripping. No—!”

Her brain, unhelpfully, replayed Maximus’ voice.

“Cucurucho has already shown interest in you before. But, it has avoided you since. That is not random.”

Katie stopped walking.

“…Okay, that’s— That’s fine,” she said, a little quieter now.

She looked around.

Nothing.

Trees.

 Dirt. 

The night sky.

Normal.

Completely normal and not a mob in sight.

And yet—

Her shoulders crept up slightly.

Because now that the idea was there—

Now that someone had said it out loud—

It felt… different.

Like the space between things had gotten tighter.

Like the silence had weight.

“…Okay,” she said again, softer this time.

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

“It watches. It doesn’t mind waiting or stalking.”

“Nope,” she said immediately, louder now. “Nope. Absolutely not. We are not doing the whole ‘something is watching me’ thing. That is— that is a horror movie trope and I am not participating in that.”

She started walking again.

Faster this time.

“Because that’s ridiculous,” she continued, voice picking up speed with her steps. “That’s— that’s paranoid. And I am not paranoid. I am observant. There’s a difference. Big difference.”

A branch snapped somewhere behind her.

Katie froze.

Slowly—

Very slowly—

She turned her head.

Nothing.

“…Okay,” she whispered.

Then, louder—

“Probably an animal! A normal, non-government affiliated animal!”

A low groan cut through the silence.

Katie blinked.

“…That is not an animal.”

Another groan— closer this time.

From behind a tree, something lurched forward.

Green and rotting.

Very much looking like it had opinions about her existence.

“Fuck. fuckfuck!”

The zombie let out a noise and started toward her.

Katie stared at it for half a second.

Then—

“Awe hell no!”

She turned and bolted.

Leaves crunched under her feet as she sprinted through the trees, very quickly abandoning any sense of direction, dignity, or spy professionalism.

“I am NOT equipped for this!” she yelled over her shoulder. “I am a SPY, not a fighter!”

The zombie groaned again, still following.

“Why are you so FAST?!” she shouted, nearly tripping over a root. “You’re dead! That should slow you down!”

Katie ducked under a branch, swerved around a tree, and kept running until the groaning faded into the distance.

Only then did she slow down and stop.

Then bend over slightly, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“…Fuckin’ hate those things,” she panted. 

She straightened, brushing her hands off like that had gone exactly according to plan.

“Well, at least I know my survival instincts are still intact.”

Her heart was beating a little too fast.

Which was annoying.

Because she was not scared.

She was annoyed if anything.

…Totally.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

By the time Katie made it back to her ‘base’ she had almost convinced herself that everything was fine again.

Almost.

Her setup looked exactly how she left it.

Which was to say—

Bad.

A single large chest.

A crafting table.

And still no bed.

Katie stopped a few steps away, hands on her hips, staring at it like it might apologize.

“I really need to make my base again,” she said flatly. “Though it probably is best to wait just a bit longer till I build under Mr. J’s house.”

Katie huffed and walked over to her chest and dropping into a crouch and flipping it open with more force than necessary.

“Whatever,” she muttered, peering inside. 

Her hand brushed against something sharper.

Katie’s movement slowed just slightly as she pulled it out.

Her diamond knife.

She stared at it.

Then, with far more drama than necessary, she straightened up a little, turning it in her hand so it caught the light of the moon.

“Okay,” she said, quieter now. “Okay. Now this— this is intimidating.”

She gave it a small test swing.

And immediately almost dropped it.

“Shit!” she said quickly, catching it and pretending that didn’t happen. “I’ll work on the intimidation factor, but the intent is there.” 

“…Kid, if you take out your own eye, I’m not helping you.”

A voice cut in from nearby.

Katie froze.

Then slowly turned her head.

Leaning just outside his house like he had always been there. 

Jschlatt looked… unimpressed.

Which, to be fair, was kind of his default setting.

Katie blinked at him.

“…Oh, hey, Neighbor,” she said, like she had not just been caught mid–failed weapon flourish.

He squinted slightly.

“…What are you doing?” he asked, already sounding like he regretted asking.

Katie immediately straightened, slipping the knife behind her back like that made her less suspicious.

“Nothing!” she said brightly. “Just— uhm— preparing!”

“For what?” he asked flatly.

She paused; Only because—

Well...

Technically, she could tell him.

She could just say, “Oh yeah, I’m going to go find one of those weird white bear things and ask it questions for a spy mission.”

.

..

Yeah, no.

Absolutely not.

Schlatt already didn’t like those things— correction, he really didn’t like those things, and the last time she got anywhere near one, he’d nearly lost it.

If she told him, he wouldn’t just say no.

He’d either stop her outright—

—or worse, get involved.

And something about that felt… wrong.

This wasn’t his thing.

This was hers.

…Also, he would 100% call it a terrible idea.

Which..—

Okay, it might be a terrible idea—

—But that wasn’t the point!

So.

She thought about it.

Then settled on:

“…Stuff..”

There was a beat.

Schlatt stared at her.

Katie smiled.

It was not convincing.

“…‘Stuff’?” he repeated.

“Yeah!” she said quickly. “You know, like—! Going out, doing things, very normal activities—!”

“Katie.”

“…Yeah?”

“If this is you getting an idea in your head again,” he said, already rubbing a hand over his face, “Drop it.”

Katie blinked.

“…I don’t know what you mean.”

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

There was a very brief moment where she considered doubling down.

Then—

“…Okay, so maybe a small idea,” she admitted. “But it’s not a bad one.”

“They’re always bad,” he said immediately.

“Hey!”

She pointed at him.

“That’s not true. All of my ideas are good.”

“Oh really? Name one.”

Katie opened her mouth but paused.

“…Okay, that’s not the point,” she said quickly, shaking her head.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

She huffed.

“It’s fine,” she insisted. “What I’m doing, I’ve got it handled.”

Schlatt glanced at her setup and lack of literally anything useful.

Then back at her.

“…With what?” he asked.

Katie hesitated.

“…Resourcefulness,” she said finally.

She watched as Schlatt closed his eyes for a second. Like he was asking whatever higher power existed to give him strength.

When he looked at her again, he seemed just as tired as before.

“Kid,” he said, slower now, more deliberate, “I’m going to say this only once, and then I’m going to pretend we never had this conversation.”

Katie nodded immediately, like she was about to receive valuable wisdom.

“If you go out there looking for trouble,” he said, “You’re gonna find it.”

Katie opened her mouth—

He cut her off.

“And when things start to go south,” he added, voice dipping just slightly, “—because it most definitely will— you’re not gonna be able to talk your way out of it.”

That—

Okay.

That landed a little.

Katie shifted her weight slightly.

“…I can talk my way out of most things,” she said, weaker now.

“But, not everything,” he said.

There was no sarcasm in it.

Which somehow made it worse.

Katie looked at him for a second.

Then—

She forced a small smile.

“Well,” she said, clapping her hands together once like she could reset the conversation, “Good thing I’m not doing anything that will possibly go wrong, right?”

Schlatt stared at her.

She grinned.

He looked… deeply unconvinced.

“…I don’t believe that for a second,” he muttered under his breath.

Katie tilted her head.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Mr. J—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“—I’ve got this completely under control,” she continued, ignoring him. “This is just… something I need to do.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to question that,” he muttered.

“Hey!”

She pointed at him.

“That wasn’t very kind, Mr. J.”

He gestured vaguely at her entire situation.

“You’re standing in front of a box with no house, holding a knife like it’s a toy choochoo train, and you’re telling me you’ve got this under control? I could almost laugh.”

Katie looked down at the knife.

Then back at him.

“…Okay,” she admitted, turning it slightly in her hand, “When you say it like that, you make it sound bad.”

“Because it is bad,” he said immediately.

“Okay, but—!” she started, lifting a finger like she was about to make a groundbreaking point, “—Context matters! What I’m going to be doing isn’t dangerous at all, so I don’t understand why you’re getting so worked up about this.”

“Okay, give me the context then; What are you doing?” he asked.

Katie opened her mouth.

Then paused.

“…That’s something I’m not allowed to disclose to you.” She said finally.

He stared at her.

She smiled.

It did not help.

Schlatt dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly through his nose like he was trying very hard not to say something he would regret.

“…You’re unbelievable,” he muttered.

“I get that a lot actually,” Katie said, brightening slightly. “Usually in a positive way.”

“Well, I don’t mean it in a positive way.”

“Okay, well, that sounds like a personal interpretation issue.”

He gave her a look.

Not annoyed.

Not even surprised.

Just—

Tired.

Deeply and fundamentally tired.

“Just— Don’t do anything overly stupid,” he sighed, “I don’t want to deal with you anymore than I already have to.”

Katie huffed.

Then crossed her arms.

Then uncrossed them immediately because she was still holding the knife and that felt unsafe.

“Listen, Mr. J, I appreciate the concern— I really do—! But I’ve got this.” she said, nodding once like she had reached a conclusion.

Schlatt didn’t respond.

Didn’t argue.

Which was somehow worse than arguing.

Katie forced a smile.

“Okay!” she said, clapping her hands together once, like that reset everything. “Great talk! Super helpful! I will be taking all of this into consideration—”

“I highly doubt that.”

“—And then making my own informed decision,” she finished.

He looked like he was about to say something else.

Actually—

He most definitely started to.

His mouth opened slightly—

Then stopped.

Like he thought better of it.

“…Just—” he tried again.

Stopped.

Exhaled.

“…Forget it.”

Katie tilted her head slightly.

“Don’t worry Mr. J, I’ll be back before you know it.” she said. “So you don’t gotta worry at all!”

“I— I’m not worried whatsoever.”

“Listen, Mr. J you don’t gotta lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s okay to admit you’ll miss me.”

“I won’t,” he repeated, already sounding exhausted again.

Katie smiled, softer this time.

“Okay,” she said. “Whatever you say, Neighbor.”

There was a beat.

Then she turned and started walking.

“Katie.”

She paused.

Didn’t turn around this time.

“…Yeah?” she called.

There was a second of silence.

Then—

“Seriously… Don’t do anything stupid.”

Katie let out a small laugh.

“Wow,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a grin. “That really narrows down my options.”

He didn’t smile.

Didn’t respond.

Just watched her.

Katie hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Then—

“Relax, Mr. J,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

And then she turned back—

And kept walking.

Didn’t look back again.

Schlatt stood there long after she disappeared into the trees.

Jaw tight and hands still.

“…Unbelievable,” he muttered.

But he didn’t move.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

Katie did not, under any circumstances, have a plan.

This was fine.

Plans were, historically speaking, overrated. 

Plans required foresight, preparation, emotional stability— things Katie had temporarily misplaced sometime between the KFC disaster and Maximus looking her dead in the eyes and saying “I trust you with this.”

Which, by the way, was insane.

Who let him do that?

Who gave him the authority to say something like that and then just let her walk out into the world like she wasn’t going to immediately make it her entire personality for the next six hours?

“Okay,” Katie muttered to herself as she stepped out of the base, immediately walking in a direction with the confidence of someone who absolutely knew where she was going. (She did not know where she was going. But that wasn’t the point.)

“I am a trusted spy,” she said, pointing at herself as she walked. “I have been specifically selected for my unique skill set, which includes:  lying, talking too much, and making deeply questionable decisions under pressure.”

She paused.

“…Okay, when I say it like that, it sounds less impressive.”

Katie kept walking anyway.

Because the alternative was stopping, and if she stopped, she might start thinking, and if she started thinking, she might remember how much trust Maximus has in her to succeed in this mission.

Why her?

No.

It’s not good to question your superior.

Nor was it good to ignore the real problem at hand here.

Because now it wasn’t just a mission anymore.

Now it was a test.

And Katie, historically, never did well on tests.

“Okay,” she said, louder this time, like she could override her own brain if she just committed hard enough. “We are not spiraling. I must act normal. This is a normal spy mission. People do this kinda stuff all the time.”

She stepped over a patch of uneven terrain, nearly tripping, caught herself, and kept going without acknowledging it.

“Totally normal to go looking for a potentially dangerous entity with no plan, no backup, and—” she patted her pockets, “—half a stack of bread.”

Katie nodded to herself, reassured.

“Okay. This is fine, I just need to prove myself.”

It was not, in fact, fine.

The island stretched out quieter than usual, or maybe it just felt that way. 

The farther she got from Maximus’ base, the more the air seemed to settle into something heavier, less like open space and more like something waiting.

Katie shoved her hands into her pockets, rocking slightly on her heels as she slowed.

“…Okay,” she said, softer this time.

Because she recognized this place.

Not immediately; but in the way her body reacted before her brain could catch up. 

The way her shoulders tensed just a little. 

The way her steps lost some of their earlier, forced confidence.

“This is—” she turned in a slow circle, scanning the area, “Yeah, No, I’ve been here before.”

Nothing did.

Which somehow made it worse.

Katie huffed out a breath, dragging a hand down her face.

Her gaze drifted toward the shoreline.

Empty.

But not in a comforting way.

More like something that shouldn’t be empty.

“…Right,” she said, like she was reminding herself of something important. “This is fine. This is intentional. I came here on purpose, like the professional I am. Because I'm a professional who knows what she’s doing.”

She paused.

“…Totally.”

The wind shifted slightly.

Or maybe it didn’t.

Maybe she just noticed the chill of the air now.

Katie shifted her weight, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.

“Okay,” she tried again, louder this time, like she could force the confidence back into existence. “I’m just going to locate the target, initiate a normal, very non-threatening conversation, gather information, and leave. Easy enough, right?”

She nodded.

“That’s what spies do.”

A beat.

“…right?”

She took a step forward.

Then another.

And then—

Stopped.

Because now she was sure the air had changed.

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but even she could feel that something was off.

There was a presence. 

Katie didn’t turn immediately.

Her brain stalled out for half a second, like it was buffering.

“…Okay,” she said quietly.

Then she turned.

Cucurucho stood a few blocks away.

Not moving; just standing there.

Katie blinked.

“Wow,” she said after a second, voice coming out thinner than she wanted. “Okay. That— that was faster than I thought it was gonna take to find you. I didn’t even have to, like, look. How convenient.”

Cucurucho didn’t respond.

It didn’t even move.

Katie shifted her weight, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite land.

“Hey,” she tried casually. “So, uh— funny running into you here. I was actually just— you know— in the area. Not for any specific reason.”

A beat.

Still nothing.

“Right,” she said, unfazed. “Cool. Silent type. I respect that.”

She rocked back on her heels awkwardly.

“Well, since we’re both here,” she continued, gesturing lightly between them, “I might as well make this productive, right? I had a couple questions I wanted to ask you. Just like— general, non-threatening questions. About the island and stuff. You know. Normal icebreaker kinda stuff.”

Cucurucho took a step forward.

Katie’s brain immediately short-circuited.

“Oh,” she said. “What’cha doing there bud?”

She took a step back without thinking.

Which, in hindsight, maybe wasn’t the best move.

“Right, so I just wanna clarify something real quick—” she continued quickly, hands coming up in a half-gesture like she could physically slow the situation down. “This is, like, a mutual interaction, right? Like, we’re both choosing to be here? This isn’t—”

Katie cut herself off.

Because Cucurucho didn’t stop moving.

It didn’t rush her, didn’t lunge, didn’t do anything that Katie’s brain could neatly categorize as danger. 

It just… closed the distance. 

One step. 

Then another. 

“Okay,” she said, a little confused now. “So I’m gonna take that as a no on the mutual thing. That’s fine. That’s okay. We can work with that. I’m flexible.”

Cucurucho stopped a few blocks away.

Still not speaking.

Katie’s hands hovered uselessly in the air for a second before she forced them back down to her sides.

Right. Questions. She had questions. That was the whole point.

 “So, uh— first question, right off the bat, just to, like, establish a baseline here—”

“Are you—” she gestured vaguely at them, “—a girl bear or a boy bear?”

A pause.

Katie nodded to herself.

“Or neither. That’s also an option. Very inclusive over here! I just feel like it’s important information for me personally, you know? For context.”

Cucurucho tilted its head.

Just slightly.

Katie lit up immediately.

“Okay! That’s engagement. That’s something. We’re getting somewhere.”

She pointed at them like she was proud.

“See, this is good. This is how conversations start. Small responses, subtle cues, then we build from there.”

Cucurucho took a step forward.

Katie took a step back automatically—

Then paused, glancing down at her own feet.

“…Oh, are we moving?” she asked, looking back up. “Is this like a walking interview situation? I can do that. I’m great at multitasking.”

Another step from Cucurucho.

Katie adjusted again, completely unfazed.

“Okay, so we’re closing distance. Very forward. I respect the confidence!”

She tucked her hands behind her back again, leaning slightly forward like she was trying to read them better.

“My name is Katie, but I also go by saucebxss, but you can just call me Sauce or Boss— or you can just keep it professional and call me Katie,” she continued, “I’m kind of a journalist-information enthusiast. Sometimes… And also a spy. But, like, don’t tell anyone okay? I’m just telling you cause I trust you can keep a secret, right? ”

No response.

“Or you can just not say anything,” she added. “That’s also been working for you so far.”

Cucurucho took another step forward.

Katie stepped back again.

This time, her heel caught uneven ground.

She stumbled, caught herself, and laughed weakly like that had been intentional.

Her eyes flicked briefly toward the shoreline again.

Then lingered a second longer this time.

“…Huh.”

Because yeah.

She knew this place.

Fully.

Not just the vague, creeping familiarity from earlier.

No, this was—

This was the spot.

The exact stretch of land where everything had gone wrong the first time.

Where Schlatt had yelled at her for getting in a boat with one of those things.

Katie went very still.

“…Well, would you look at that,” she said softly.

Her gaze snapped back to Cucurucho.

Cucurucho didn’t move.

But somehow—

It felt closer.

Like the space between them had been decided already, and Katie was just the last one to realize it.

“…Okay,” she said, softer now.  “So we’re doing themes. I see that. Revisiting locations. Very symbolic of us. Maybe a little bit ominous but who cares about that am I right?”

No response.

Just that same stillness.

That same… waiting.

Katie eyes flicking, just for a second, toward the water again.

She looked back at Cucurucho.

Katie let out a small, shaky breath through her nose.

“Okay,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “So I’m just gonna— I’m just gonna ask a few questions, and then I’ll be on my way, and we can all pretend this was a very normal, very chill interaction—”

“You came looking for me.”

Katie froze.

The voice was robotic; just like she remembered from before.

It wasn’t loud.

Wasn’t threatening.

But it cut clean through everything.

“You’ve been looking for a while now.”

Katie blinked.

“You could say that,” she said after a second, nodding slowly. “I did come looking for you, but in, like, a super non-invasive way—!”

“Why?”

That stopped her.

Not because of how it was said.

But because—

There wasn’t anything behind it.

No curiosity.

No emotion.

More like a test question asking how you explain your answer.

Katie opened her mouth before closing it.

“…I have questions that I need you to answer,” she said finally.

Cucurucho didn’t move.

“About the island,” she added quickly. “And the Federation. And— just, like— how things work.”

Silence.

Then—

“You were told to ask.”

Katie’s breath hitched.

Just slightly.

“…No,” she said, too fast. “No, I mean—! I chose to ask. Like, independently. Free will and all that—”

“You were told to ask.”

Same tone.

Same certainty.

Katie’s pulse picked up.

“…Okay,” she said, a little quieter now. “So, hypothetically speaking— if someone had told me to ask— that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m, like, doing this for them, right? That could just be, you know, a suggestion. An optional kinda thing, you know?”

Cucurucho took another step forward.

Katie stepped back.

Again.

“…Okay,” she said. “So we’re not liking the hypothetical angle. That’s fine. We can drop that.”

Her heel hit sand.

She didn’t need to look to know how close she was to the shoreline now.

“You ask a lot of questions,” Cucurucho said, “You say you’re a spy.”

It took another step.

“But you move between groups.”

Slowly moving closer.

“You are not loyal to one group or organization. You’re easy to predict but unpredictable in your actions.”

Katie’s breath caught.

Because—

That was exactly what Maximus had said.

Well… kind of.

The way Maximus said it made it sound more like a compliment, something to be proud of.

This, however, was the opposite, it was said with no emotion nor intention to be offended.

More like a statement.

An pure observation

A fact. 

That confused Katie.

How can the same statement be told to her but have just a different effect?

“You try to make everyone trust you.”

Katie didn’t move this time.

Because there was nowhere left to step back to.

“…I— okay,” she said, her voice a little bit strained now. “I thought I was supposed to be doing the interview—?”

“You say you want to make the world peaceful but why do you strive for a goal that you’ll never achieve?”

The words landed flat.

It was a question that she couldn’t answer.

The question wasn’t asking her either.

And something in Katie’s chest dropped.

Because—

That was it.

That was the moment.

The one Maximus had warned her about.

The one Schlatt had—

Her thoughts stuttered.

“You’re not gonna be able to talk your way out of it.”

“…Okay,” Katie said, irritation now slowly creeping up. “I don’t care if my goals seem impossible to achieve to you, but I'm still going to try no matter what!”

Cucurucho didn’t respond.

But it did move.

Closer.

Not fast.

But not as slow as Katie would’ve liked.

“Okay,” she said again, this time a little sharper. “So I’m just gonna— I’m just gonna head out now, actually. This has been super informative—!”

“You were told to come here.”

Katie shook her head immediately.

“No, I wasn’t— I chose— I made that decision—”

“You were expected to.”

Her breath hitched.

“But you came anyway.”

Another step.

“And now you stay.”

“…uhhh,” Katie said, a little concerned now. “No, I don’t— I think I’m good. But thanks for the offer though! Welp! It was great getting to know you and all but—”

She turned.

Just slightly.

Just enough to leave.

And that’s when it happened.

So fast that she couldn’t even react.

One second, there was space between them—

And the next—

There wasn’t.

Katie felt something cold, almost too still, closed around her wrist.

It wasn’t tight enough to be painful but it most definitely wasn’t gentle either.

Her heart didn’t spike.

It should’ve, probably.

Logically, this was the kind of situation where a normal person would panic, or at least consider it.

Katie did not.

Instead, she looked down at her wrist, then back up at Cucurucho confused.

“…Whoa there, pal!” She said, tilting her head. “At least take me out to dinner first.”

No response.

She tried to pull her hand back.

Nothing.

Katie paused.

“Hey man, if you wanted to hold my hand so badly you could’ve just asked.”

She tugged again, testing the grip like she was checking if a jar lid was stuck.

Still nothing.

“Alright, cool,” she continued, completely unfazed. “So we’re doing the whole ‘grab first, talk later’ strategy. Bold. A little unconventional, but bold.”

Cucurucho didn’t react.

Katie didn’t either.

Her smile stayed easy, natural and even, as she shifted her weight slightly.

“See, this is— this is a great example of miscommunication,” she went on, casually gesturing with her free hand. “Because normally, when two people meet, there’s like— a conversation first? Maybe a handshake even? Not—” she lifted their joined hands slightly, “—this.”

Cucurucho’s grip didn’t tighten, didn’t shift, didn’t react to her pulling at all. It just… was… steady and… unmoving…

Like her wrist had been slotted into place rather than just grabbed.

“You are not leaving.”

The words cut through her immediately.

Katie stilled for just a second.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding once, like she’d just solved the situation. “Yeah, no, I’m staying. Obviously. That’s, like,  the whole point. You don’t get information by leaving early. That’s rule one of journalism.”

Cucurucho didn’t respond.

Katie’s eyes flicked down to their grip.

Then back up.

“You said I ask a lot of questions,” she continued, tone shifting, less frantic now, more deliberate. “So I’m gonna keep doing that.”

There was a pause.

“Are you okay with that?” she added.

Still nothing.

“So you won’t answer my questions but you don’t want me to leave? Now that’s not very fair.” 

Katie’s fingers curled slightly, not pulling away this time, just grounding herself.

“I’m sure you also want something out of this too, right?” she went on, voice steadier now. “Or else you wouldn’t have bothered to show up.”

Cucurucho tilted its head again.

Just slightly.

“You observe everyone, right?” she added quickly. “Not just me. Like, I’m not— I’m not special or anything—? Not that I’d mind being special, but like in a cool way—! Not in a creepy surveillance way—?”

“Yes.”

Katie blinked.

“Yes to you also thinking I’m special or to the observing everyone?”

“Yes”

Katie blinked again.

“…Uhm,” she said slowly. “That did not clear anything up..”

Katie let out a small breath through her nose, her free hand coming up to rub at her temple.

“Okay, so here’s the thing,” she continued. “I came here for information. You clearly already have information. So this—” she gestured vaguely between them, “—this is not an equal exchange right now, and I feel like we could really benefit from fixing that.”

Silence.

“…Because right now?” she added. “This is less of a conversation and more of a— uh— hostage-adjacent situation.”

Nothing.

Katie inhaled slowly.

Then exhaled.

And for the first time since this started—

She didn’t immediately fill the silence.

It stretched.

Katie’s fingers curled slightly.

This wasn’t going how she wanted it to

And she’s now realizing no amount of talking was going to force it to.

Her jaw tightened just slightly.

“…This is going nowhere,” she admitted.

“Yes.”

Katie blinked.

“…Is that all you’re gonna say?”

“Yes.”

“…Okay, cool.” she nodded slowly. “But, as much as I love your consistency can you say literally anything other than yes?”

“No”

“Not really what I meant but—“

Katie cut herself off at the sound of footsteps.

At first, it didn’t even register as anything important— just another sound in the background, like wind or shifting sand. 

But the closer they got the harder it became to ignore.

Katie’s head turned slightly, just enough to glance past Cucurucho—

Katie’s stomach dropped.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.

The footsteps didn’t speed up.

They were steady and deliberate, like whoever it was had already decided how this was going to end and saw no reason to rush getting there.

Katie didn’t even have to look at his face to know who it was.

Schlatt.

Walking straight toward them like this was the most inconvenient errand of his day.

His hands at his sides, shoulders loose, expression flat in that specific way that meant he was already irritated before he even got here.

“…Oh my god,” Katie breathed, somewhere between relief and immediate regret.

Because this was—

This was bad.

Not just because she got caught.

But because he was here.

And he looked like he’d already decided he was annoyed.

Schlatt stopped a few feet away.

His gaze flicked once, briefly, down to where Cucurucho still had a hold of her wrist.

Then back up.

“…Really? This is what you had to do that was so important.” He deadpanned.

Dry and flat.

Like he’d just walked in on someone leaving a mess in his house.

Katie immediately straightened (or, tried to) which was difficult considering the whole being grabbed situation.

“Okay— Hi— Hey— so—!  Before you say anything—!”

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” he cut in.

Katie winced.

“Okay, in my defense—!”

“You don’t have one.”

“That feels a little presumptive—”

“Katie.”

“…Yeah?”

“You left,” he said, slow and deliberate, “with a pare knife you don’t know how to hold, no plan, and now you’ve—” his eyes flicked down again, “—managed to get caught by one of these things? What on Earth were you thinking?”

Katie glanced down at her wrist.

“…Okay, when you say it like that—”

“No— No. There is no way to twist this into something else, Katie. This is exactly what you have been doing.”

“Right, yeah, no, that’s fair.”

There was a beat.

Katie shifted slightly, then immediately tried to play it off like she wasn’t still very much stuck.

“Also—! Just for the record—! I did have a plan.”

Schlatt looked at her.

“…I highly doubt that.”

“I had a concept of a plan.”

“A concept isn’t a plan.”

“Okay, well my ‘concept’ was working until—” she gestured vaguely with her free hand, “—this.”

Cucurucho didn’t move; it didn’t even react.

Schlatt finally looked at it properly.

He didn’t look cautious or nervous, if anything he just looked annoyed.

“Let her go,” he said.

Nothing happened.

Katie gave a small, awkward nod like, yeah, worth a shot.

“Okay, so— funny story,” she jumped in quickly, because silence was worse, “I actually came out here on purpose— like, intentionally, for information, which I was in the process of getting until you decided to show up.”

Schlatt didn’t look at her.

“…You’re not helping your case.”

“I’m providing context.”

“You’re digging yourself into a hole.”

“Okay, well—”

“Katie.”

She stopped.

“…Yeah?”

“If I wanted commentary, I’d ask.”

“…Right. Okay. I’ll— I’ll just— yeah.”

She shut up.

For about two seconds.

“…For the record though, I could’ve handled this,” she added quickly.

That made him look at her.

Slowly.

“…You could’ve handled this?” he repeated.

“Yeah.”

“You?”

“I don’t know why you sound so shocked by that.”

He glanced at her wrist.

Still very much not free.

Then back at her.

“…Right.”

“Okay, listen— that’s not—! That’s not my point—”

“No, I think that’s exactly the point.”

Katie huffed slightly, shifting her weight.

“I had it under control before you got here.”

“You are currently being held in place—”

“This is just a small setback.”

“—against your own will.”

“Okay, that’s— that’s a strong way to phrase it—”

“Katie.”

“…Yeah?”

“You’re not winning this argument.”

“I would like to disagree, actually.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

Then finally his attention snapped fully back to Cucurucho.

And something about the shift was—

Subtle.

But sharp.

Like the air tightened around it.

“…I’m not gonna repeat myself,” Schlatt said, voice quieter now, edged in something colder. “Let her go.”

Cucurucho tilted its head.

Just slightly.

“You are interfering.”

“Yeah,” Schlatt said immediately. “That’s kind of the idea.”

Katie blinked between them.

“…Okay, so— just to clarify— we’re not doing the whole ‘talk it out peacefully’ approach anymore, or—?”

“Stop talking,” he muttered.

“Right. Yep. Done.”

A beat passed.

“…But also— just so we’re all aware— I didn’t tell you about this because I knew you’d react like this.”

That got his attention.

Slowly.

“…Like what,” he asked.

“You wouldn’t have let me do it.”

“No, I wouldn’t have.”

“Exactly.”

Katie lifted her chin slightly, despite everything.

“Because you don’t trust me to handle things like this.”

Schlatt stared at her.

Unimpressed.

“Because you can’t handle things like this.”

“Okay— that’s— that’s not—”

“You can’t.”

Katie faltered for half a second.

“…Okay, well— this is a very specific circumstance—”

“You went looking for trouble.”

“And I found information!”

“You found a problem.”

“I am the solution to the problem—”

“You’re the reason I’m standing here right now.”

“…Okay, wow, that feels a little—”

“Katie.”

She stopped again.

“…Yeah?”

His voice didn’t raise. Like he didn’t need to.

“You don’t get points for walking into something you don’t understand and pretending you’ve got it handled.”

Katie’s jaw tightened.

“…Maximus trusts me with stuff like this,” she shot back before she could stop herself.

There was a beat.

Schlatt didn’t respond immediately.

Which—

That somehow felt worse.

“…Really now?” he said finally.

“Yeah,” Katie pushed, a little sharper now. “He actually lets me do things. He trusts me to figure stuff out on my own—”

“And look where that got you.”

Katie froze.

Because—

That landed.

Harder than she wanted it to.

Her grip tightened slightly, even though she wasn’t pulling anymore.

“…I was figuring it out,” she muttered.

“You were stalling,” he corrected.

“No, I was gathering information—”

“You were talking in circles.”

“I was getting somewhere—”

“But you weren't.”

Silence snapped tight between them.

Even Cucurucho didn’t move.

Katie’s chest rose and fell a little faster now.

“I don’t get you. You say mean stuff about me, call me dumb and shit but you still, come get me. And it’s not like I need you to so… why? Why even bother?” she asked, quieter this time.

Schlatt looked at her.

Something unreadable flickering behind the usual irritation.

He didn’t answer.

For a second, just a second, it almost looked like he might.

His jaw shifted slightly, like he was about to say something that wasn’t sarcastic for once. 

Something real.

Then it passed just as fast as it came.

He exhaled slowly instead, dragging a hand up to his face before letting it fall again. 

The cigarette that was almost always there sat between his lips, unlit for once but present, like a habit he didn’t feel like breaking.

“…You ask too many questions,” he said finally.

Katie stared at him.

“…That’s not—” she started, then stopped, her expression tightening. “That’s not even an answer.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t say it was.”

Her frustration snapped fast.

“No!” she shot back, voice sharper now. “You can’t just— say something vague and annoying and then act like—”

“Katie—”

“No, don’t ‘Katie’ me,” she cut him off. “I asked you a question.”

“And I chose not to answer it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not relevant.”

“It is to me.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

Katie blinked at him.

Actually blinked, like she couldn’t process that he’d just said that so easily.

“…Wow,” she laughed, but there was no humor in it. 

Her hand flexed slightly in Cucurucho’s grip.

“Next time, just say you don’t care and save me the trouble.”

Something in Schlatt’s expression flickered, brief, sharp, but it was gone just as fast.

“…Yeah,” he muttered. “Sure. That’s exactly what it is.”

Before she could respond—

He moved.

There was no warning.

No buildup.

Just a shift forward, sudden and precise.

His hand came up, it wasn’t fast, but… certain.

He grabbed Katie’s wrist where Cucurucho held it.

And for the first time—

Cucurucho reacted.

Not dramatically or violently.

But it paused.

Just enough.

Schlatt didn’t hesitate.

“Let. Go.”

There was something different in his voice now.

Still quiet and controlled.

But all the tiredness and irritation it had before was gone.

Instead something colder fell in its stead.

For a split second, nothing happened.

Then—

Cucurucho’s grip loosened.

Not fully.

But enough.

Schlatt didn’t wait for more.

He yanked Katie back, pulling her behind him in one clean motion.

Katie didn’t wait, didn’t argue or resist.

The second her feet were under her, she ran.

“Katie—!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t turn to look at him.

She just ran as fast as she could.

All the adrenaline she’d been holding back finally snapped loose at once.

Her legs burned instantly, lungs screaming for oxygen she didn’t feel she had enough of. Her heart thumped like it was trying to escape her chest.

He was so relentlessly mean.

Always criticizing her, always mocking her ideas, always calling her stupid in that flat, deadpan tone that somehow made her feel small and ridiculous without even trying. 

And yet… he never let her come to actual harm. 

He always saved her when she was about to do something catastrophically stupid, like now. 

Like the KFC fiasco, like when she got on that boat, like everything she’d ever messed up, he’d been there.

He’d even let her stay on the island after the big mess in his front yard, the explosion she still tried not to think about, with the strict warning that she would never blow anything up again. That had been one of the moments she realized something: 

Schlatt hated everything she did wrong, sure, but he didn’t hate her. 

Because if he truly hated her he wouldn’t even bother, right?

And somehow that thought always made her want to prove herself even more, even when she knew he was right. 

Katie shook her head, forcing herself back into the moment. 

She couldn’t slow down her pace.

She had to get away. 

She had to put space between herself and this encounter. 

She just needed time to—

Her foot caught on a hidden root buried in the sand.

She pitched forward.

The world tilted. 

A hand caught the back of her jacket, yanking her back hard before she could go over.

Katie gasped as the momentum snapped her upright, stumbling backward straight into Schlatt.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Her breathing was uneven.

His grip was still tight on her blazer.

“…The hell is your deal?” he said, sharper than it was before.

Katie didn’t answer.

She just stood there.

Then—

Something in her broke.

“I don’t know!” she snapped, voice cracking in a way it hadn’t before.

Schlatt stilled slightly.

“I don’t— I don’t know, okay?” she went on, words coming faster now, messy and unfiltered. “I just— I thought if I could just— do something right for once!”

She let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand down her face.

“Maximus trusted me,” she said, quieter now. “He actually trusted me to do something important and I just— I didn’t want to mess it up!”

Katie laughed weakly, shaking her head.

“And I knew if I told you, you’d say no,” she admitted. “You wouldn’t have let me go, you would’ve shut it down immediately and I just— I didn’t want that.”

Her voice wavered.

“Because you don’t trust me,” she added, softer. 

Her words hung there, heavy.

“I just— I wanted to prove that I could do it,” she said. “That I’m not just—” she gestured vaguely, frustrated, “—talking all the time or messing things up or getting in the way.”

Her hands dropped to her sides.

“I thought if I just handled it myself, it would be different.”

A pause.

“…But it wasn’t.”

Silence settled between them again.

But this time—

It wasn’t tense or awkward. 

It was just… silent.

Katie looked away, jaw tight, clearly trying to pull herself back together.

Schlatt exhaled slowly through his nose.

“…Yeah,” he said after a moment. “No shit.”

It wasn’t harsh.

Not really.

Just blunt, sure, but his tone was too subtly soft to be harsh.

He glanced at her, then away again, like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this version of her.

“…You don’t prove anything by getting yourself killed doing something stupid,” he added.

Katie didn’t respond.

Schlatt shifted slightly, running a hand through his hair before settling the cigarette back between his lips.

“…Next time,” he muttered, “Tell me before you run off and do something stupid.”

Katie let out a small breath.

“Why should I listen to you when you never listen to me?”

There was a beat.

“Because you're my make-a-wish-kid.”

That—

That was probably the closest thing to an answer she was gonna get.

Katie glanced at him.

Didn’t smile.

But some of the tension in her shoulders eased, just a little.

“…I still don’t get you.” she muttered.

“I could say the same about you,” he says, “So let’s just not understand each other together.”

He paused.

Then, quieter—

“…Come on, let’s go home.”

And this time—

Katie didn’t walk ahead.

She stayed right where he was.