Who: Kat, Gid, Roger's Doorstep What: Part freaking 3 When: After part 2 Where: Gid's Apartment -> Roger's Apartment Warnings: I might kick IJ for this
He snorted at her ejaculation, but at least she was making an effort. She listened. He honestly wasn’t sure if Connor would have, although Connor also had the added benefit of a head as hard as a cement wall and more padding in his brain from where the brain cells weren’t. Chances are he wouldn’t have to be playing babysitter for Connor. “What are you, eight? I thought you were going to ask a real question.” Locating the hot plate with a satisfied grunt, he pulled it out and began setting it up before attempting to locate a mug. “You want tea?” he asked, hand still on the handle of the cabinet. The question served two purposes; making sure she was still alert and hopefully getting something into her that would keep her that way. Katya was tired. She knew coming to Gideon had been a subconscious choice, and she was glad she had, but now all she wanted to do was sleep. And he was making fun of her. A frown crossed her lips, and she crossed her arms in front of her, pouting in a very similar manner to an eight year old. “No,” was her only reply, with a bit of an edge to it that said he had hurt her feelings. She wasn’t made of a thick skin like he was. She hardly knew how to handle the fact that six men took on one girl, calling her names, and attacking her merely because of her ethnicity. She hadn’t gotten too much of that in New York City, but she wondered if that was because she had lived in a Russian area. He pulled a second mug out anyway, ignoring her answer. She was acting like a sulking child, and he didn’t have the patience for it. A steaming beverage in your hands was plenty incentive to stay awake, he’d found, so that was what she’d get. The motions of preparation were easy, practiced, and it was only a few minutes before he returned, two cups in hand. Longer than it would have been with a microwave, but that’s what happened when you had to boil water without the benefit of modern technology. He passed her a mug despite her protests before dropping down next to her, and if she bothered to take a sip she would find it almost sickeningly sweet. Personally he didn’t put all that much sugar in his, but he knew most people liked it sweeter, and if one heaping tablespoon was good two was probably better.
After a moment and a sip that seemed in direct contradiction to the heat of the liquid, he spoke. “I don’t have a favorite. A color’s a color, the only difference between them is reflection.” It wasn’t an apology, Gideon didn’t do apologies no matter who was involved, not to mention he didn’t feel he’d done anything he needed to apologize for, but it was something. Katya was still pouting when he came back into the living room and almost petulantly took the cup he handed her. She knew better than to outright refuse it, so instead she took it and held it in her hands, resting it partially on her lap so she didn’t have to support its weight. It stayed there, cooling, as she stared at it, not wanting to look at Gideon. When she did look up at him, she seemed almost surprised. “You and I are very different,” she observed quietly. “Are you sure?” There wasn’t any need to clarify what she was asking, or the observation she was making. She just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that he was her father. She believed that children inherited things from their parents, past all the biology of it. There had to be something that connected them. He toyed with the idea of acting the idiot, pretending he didn’t know what she was referring to, but it was quickly discarded. That was the coward’s way out, and while Gideon was a great many things, a coward was not one of them. He took another sip as he tried to find the right response, but when it didn’t come he just shrugged. “The tests seemed pretty sure. You can fake a lot of things, but DNA’s not really one of them. And trust me, the alternative would’ve been better for everybody.” There was a rueful quality to this last part, not quite regret but something similar under his usual unconcerned tone that he didn’t seem to notice; if he had, he might have tried harder to disguise it. Katya was glad he answered the question, afraid for a moment that he would ignore the question like he had so many others. The answer, though perhaps not the one she was looking for, was honest and she could appreciate that. She glanced down at her mug, focusing on the warmth it gave her. The idea of having family, real family, that she hadn’t ever known about was both startling and comforting. Family had always played a large part of her life, and leaving her parents for the United States was somewhat of a challenge to begin with. She had found her way, but the idea of having Gideon there comforted her somewhat. To have him close, and to be able to go to him with her vigilante activities gave her an extra sense of security outside of the vigilante network Roger had introduced her to.
“Is it only me?” she asked next, bringing her gaze up to meet his. She had recognized a difference in his tone, but couldn’t quite place it, so instead chose to follow her line of questioning. Katya just wanted to know where they stood. At this he glanced over at her, arching an eyebrow questioningly. “Does it matter?” Despite the hard edges, the warning underneath that she shouldn’t pry too deeply (his personal life was his own business as far as he was concerned, and blood relation or no it wasn’t up for discussion unless it was directly relevant), it was an honest question, designed to feel her out. Figure out how she viewed the whole thing, see which way she leaned without giving too much of his own hand away. There weren’t any others, of course, he’d been careful before and since and as a result she’d been his first and only lapse, but he wanted to know why she was curious before he said as much. Katya ignored the tone of his voice, caring more about the question itself as opposed to what it could mean. Did it matter? In a way it did. She was beginning to discover that she missed her family much more than she realized, and now that she was presented with a situation where not only did she have more family, but she had family on this side of the portal. After a few moments, she replied, “I would just like to know if I have any other family here.” It was an honest answer, and she truly wouldn’t judge him if she did. She just wanted to know. “No, you want to know if you have any other family you don’t know about.” It was a subtle distinction, but if she’d meant on this side she would have specified. It was a pretty sizable jump to assume that others besides just her would not just exist but have made the journey over as well. He moved his shoulders in what might have been a shrug but could just as easily have been a simple stretch of cramped muscles. “You’re the only one.” He was tempted to add ‘that I know about’ just to cover his bases, but honestly if there were any others kicking around he liked to think he would know about it. “And as far as I know none of your actual family’s come through either, in case you’re wondering.” Not that he went out of his way to notice, but it was one of the things he liked to keep tabs on. Just in case. Katya was torn on how to feel about his response. On one hand, she was disappointed to learn that not only did she not have any other half-siblings but also none of her family had noticed she was missing. She thought, for sure, that her parents had heard the whispers about the portals, but she also knew them. They would never leave to ‘start over’. It just wasn’t them. Her sister, perhaps, but she assumed her half-sister would go out of her way to track her down.
“Thank you,” was all she said, and finally brought the cup of tea to her lips, taking a small sip. It was very sweet, quite close to how she normally enjoyed tea and she smiled up at him. “I appreciate everything you have done for me,” Katya said quietly, biting back the urge to tack on a ‘dad’ at the end of it. Great. And cue the fuzzy wuzzies. That was the last thing he needed; time for a distraction before he got sucked in too deep. “How’s the head?” He sipped at his rapidly cooling tea again, not looking at her, everything about him back to cool and blank and unreadable. He wasn’t looking for gratitude, wasn’t sure how to accept it even if he was. She was his daughter, like it or not, for better or worse. He’d look out for her the best he could with his last breath because of that fact, help her out however he could if it killed him, and she didn’t need to thank him for it. It wasn’t exactly selfless, wanting to keep her safe, it was actually pretty selfish if you thought about it. Katya gave him a curious look as she tried to understand him. He acted so strangely sometimes, so cool and aloof, like he was above actually caring for someone. She sighed and turned back to her tea, sipping slowly. “It is fine,” she said simply, before reaching out to place the mug on the coffee table in front of them. “I am going to return home,” she announced, though she was really planning to find Roger. The eyebrow was raised again, this time more critical. “You sure? The first six hours or so after a concussion you’re supposed to have someone watching to make sure you don’t spontaneously go comatose.” It wasn’t concern that was threaded through the words, not quite (at least, not audibly), but it was more attention than it seemed the calmly apathetic exterior should give. He wouldn’t physically prevent her from leaving, not if she wanted to, but he would probably feel better about things if she didn’t. He usually felt better about things if he had a more direct hand in them rather than trusting them to other people. His response surprised her. The words themselves seemed reasonable, but also foreign. She wondered how he could say things like that without the concern one might expect from a father to their daughter. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and realized that it was still quite early. “I will stay for a while longer,” she conceded, bringing her knees up to her chest and settling in on the sofa. “Can we please watch a movie?” Anything to distract from the awkwardness she was beginning to feel. It was easy enough to be caring and uncaring all at once when you’d spent your entire life methodically hardening your heart against the world at large, killing every halfway decent impulse and leaving little more than a hollow shell behind. A little overdramatic, perhaps, but essentially a fair assessment nonetheless.
Gideon shrugged again at her question, but he was relieved she agreed to stay, if only for a little while. He relaxed a notch. “Sure, if you want. I’m not sure there’s anything good on, but I’ve got a few lying around.” It ended up being some terribly bad kung fu movie, one of those low-budget ventures with a nonexistent plot, horrible acting, but surprisingly decent fight choreography, and the next hour and a half passed with, if not exactly ease, at least less of an uncomfortable atmosphere. Being distracted by a terrible movie tends to do that. The movie was an interesting experience for Katya, but she did her best to follow along. She found herself focusing more on the fights. There were a number of moves that she wasn't familiar with, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It could be something to work on during future training sessions, or on her own.
Once the movie was over, Katya excused herself from Gideon's company and made her way out of the building. She was maybe a block away when she changed her mind and turned around. Roger also lived in Bathos, and it would be a nice surprise for him, she thought. She made her way back into the building and walked up the stairs to Roger's floor. She knocked twice, but there wasn't any answer. Instead of leaving, Kat took a seat against his door and contented herself with waiting for him. After a few hours, she drifted off to sleep and stayed there, undisturbed, throughout the blackout.