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Katie could get herself out of any situation, is what she would like to believe.
She held a kind of confidence someone who leeched off of nearly all her friends—if they could even be considered that—should not attain. Upon meeting her, you may come to two conclusions.
One, and the identity she aimed to achieve, was an assured steadfast entrepreneur whom you could call for help and consider a trusty companion.
The latter, and the more likely deduction, was an arrogant, all bark no bite, far too friendly and aloof optimist who had no clue what she was doing.
But that was the truth. She hadn’t a clue since she stepped foot on the island, using her title as mother to get others to do her dirty work before setting off and getting involved in unnecessary tomfoolery for nothing but a silly nickname (although she’d argue Perro Grande sounded far from silly).
And as she sat on the ledge of her wooden tower, she realized she still didn’t. From up here, the breeze picked up the strands of her hair not caught in a bun. You could have seen the golden temples of her sunglasses if they were on her face, but she pulled them onto her head so she could get a better look at the frantic crowd below her.
She wondered when they had found the time to chase after her. When they had looked up from the vomit filled floor or slipped away from the fight to pour water and attempt to call her down. When their minds suddenly changed from “this food sucks” to “oh no, we hurt Katie’s feelings”.
Part of her—the same part that dragged her up here and placed the blocks—hoped she never found out. For she would be dead, never to burden anyone with her incessant chatter and selfish wants again. Clearly, they did not care, that part of her brain would hiss.
And it wasn’t wrong. Mike had said so earlier; he thought he was carrying the restaurant, doing everything himself and dragging Katie along with him. Schlatt already kicked her out of the island. There was no need to dwell on that loss.
Everyone she thought cared saw her as nothing but a responsibility. Schlatt said so himself, referring to their friendship as a make-a-wish situation. Like she was a stray dog begging for scraps, mildly annoying, but you wouldn’t dare turn it away.
It was only fair to repay them for their grace. What better way than relieving them of her troubles once and for all?
Katie didn’t think before she pushed herself off the tower. For once, she let the racing train of thought silence itself, and she relished in the moments that followed. A kind of serene bliss as her only focus was how her pink suit lifted against the wind. Perhaps she should have thought, though. Had she thought, she wouldn’t have fallen right into the water.
What was tranquil became chaotic just as quickly, reality slamming into her like a freight train. Her moments of calm and quiet had washed up, and when the voices calling out to her meshed together, she could do nothing more than run away.
And run she did. Away from Quackity and Foolish, away from Graf, away from Mike, away from the people who reminded her only of how she had burdened everyone with her presence.
She ran until the dark of night bled into the light of dawn, past the forest and through the river, until she stumbled across the one place she considered home.
The one place she had been exiled from.
She let out a shuddering breath. Everything felt too real since she fell through the air. She had felt weightless, empty, and now every step followed a sore pang or sleuth of thoughts that kept her frazzled and overwhelmed.
Katie was sure once Schlatt realized she was here she would be sent away, but it was hard to keep quiet when you couldn’t stop hyperventilating and stumbled with every step. Despite the water breaking her fall, she didn’t leave the scene without injury, and her running across the moors and through thorn bushes was no remedy.
She was grateful to make it to her chest without fail, because that was as far as she would get. Gripping onto the corner, she kneeled down and wiped her face. Blood and tears stained her sleeve.
“Katie.” A voice she hoped she would avoid.
There was a moment of hesitation as Katie gathered herself as best as possible before shooting up a tad too quickly. She turned on her heel to face Schlatt, in all his silver horned glory.
“Mister J!” She smiled as best as possible. It came out crooked and strained. “I was just grabbing my things. I’ll be out of your horns soon.” She promised, voice cracking as she fought the urge to beg to stay.
Schlatt watched her, eyes narrowed and judgmental. Like his hair, they were hazelnut brown. She winced under their sharp gaze, hand nearly slipping from where it was supporting her against the chest.
“You look terrible.” He commented bluntly.
“Ever the charmer, Mister J!” She coughed a laugh and turned to start grabbing her stuff, frustration clawing at her stomach. Couldn’t he spare her the insults just this once?
“Your injuries will get infected if you don’t treat them.” He continued. He sounded as though he was treading a minefield. Katie half expected him to shake his head and storm off.
“I don’t have any potions.” Katie grumbled, because this much was obvious. Where would a girl like her, who hadn’t even stepped foot in a mine, get health potions? Schlatt knew this much at least.
“I… have some.” The ram hesitated as if making a decision mid sentence. Katie halted in her collecting, nothing less than surprised by the offer.
“…Good for you?” She said it like a question, unsure if Schlatt was offering or just boasting. The two of them never had an exactly wholesome moment, but this awkwardness was a harsh setback.
“Right, right.”
The silence was deafening as the two of them stared at each other like deer stuck in headlights, waiting for the other to make a move. Eventually, Schlatt sighed as if this was a personal attack on his sanity.
“Come on, before I change my mind.” He walked past her towards his humble abode. Katie almost didn’t follow, slack jawed from Mister J’s sudden kindness.
Schlatt’s house was cozy. The wood smelled soft and grounding and Katie found the small detail made her eyes water all over again. She knew she would be sent away once her injuries were treated. It didn’t make the hurt any better.
When Schlatt went upstairs, Katie did not follow. He’d told her not to go to his chest room after all. It wasn’t for no reason. She had stolen from the man, and blown his island up, and patronized him beyond belief. She deserved to be banned from the premises. Instead, she sat down on the sofa and stared at the ground.
She took this time to assess how she felt—physically. Her back and chest hurt and she felt chronically winded. She had scrapes and bruises all over. Tears littered her suit. Her left ankle was sore, slightly swollen, and her eyes burned.
She didn’t move until Schlatt came back downstairs, medical supplies in tow.
He was silent at first, handing her the potions and watching her drink them. The liquid was tart. It burned her throat. It was thick like syrup and she nearly gagged.
“What will you do now?” He asked as she handed the empty bottles back. She felt exhaustion tugging at her as the medicine kicked in, quickening the healing process.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She wondered why she always lied so pathologically. The truth was easier. “Try not to die, I guess.” The last two words held heavy considering her recent actions. Schlatt looked at her doubtfully.
“You could—should—stay here.” He suggested, much to Katie’s surprise. This man never ceased to amaze her. She was sure he hated her, and voiced this concern.
It took him a long time to respond.
“I don’t… hate you.” He began as he started wrapping her leftover injuries; a few particular scrapes on her arms and her ankle. “I just want to lead you in the right direction. Y’know, with tough love.”
“So… you love me?” Katie grinned wearily. She didn’t take her eyes off of where he was wrapping her arm in gauze. Schlatt snorted.
“I wouldn’t say that either.” There he was; the Mister Giggles she knew and loved.
“What a relief. I was worried my near death experience made you soft.” She grinned before nudging him and deeply regretting it as pain bloomed in her elbow.
The two of them laughed, and something else bloomed, this time in her chest. Even though he may not show it often, or conventionally, there was someone who cared, and someone who would be there to pick her up when she fell.