Jun. 16th, 2020 at 12:03 PM
CASSIDY + KITTY
oh hey you're back!
JUNE 3rd | his apartment, then a diner | PG-13
A rather sad attempt was being made to work on his motorcycle. There was a stutter when he first started her up -- although arguably it went nicely with the constant backfiring and questionable brakes, Cassidy didn’t want the thing to simply give out while doing 60+mph on the highway. He wasn’t exactly a mechanic, though, and relied heavily on a manual from the 1960’s which he had to scour the internet for a week to find and print out.
Most of his day consisted of reading over the vague descriptions of parts in between sketching the wolf he saw in the woods the other night. Rather than grease, his fingers were smudged with graphite from drawing and shading the creature. A relatively harmless encounter, which meant nothing in terms of distinguishing between whether or not it had been a werewolf in shift, and given the distance it was difficult to tell just how large the creature was. As a cryptid enthusiast, and Men of Letters in training, he kicked himself for not being able to tell right away.
Cassidy let the pencil drop onto the page of his journal and sighed, leaning his head back against the garage door and closing his eyes. Maybe it just wasn’t his day -- or week, for that matter. In his training he was struggling with magical theory, and worse yet, he’d heard rumor that a longtime friend had been in a car accident with her father. He hadn’t heard from her, though at times school was demanding and he knew that, but mentally he didn’t want to humor the idea too much. Cas wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out the answers to that particular mystery. Instead, he was perfectly fine with allowing his text messages be left on read.
With his feet propped up on the work bench, he turned to a blank page in his journal and placed it over his face to shield himself from the sun. Maybe a nap would help reset his mind a bit and allow him to focus on one task today -- late nights investigating and throwing himself into his studies during the day were doing no favors for his circadian rhythm.
Kitty had finally settled in at her aunt’s place, started her job at the hospital (and was so grateful they had a space for her without her needing to try and use the nepotism of her family’s long-standing place in the town) and felt a little more at home. Or, at least, as at home as she could feel. Everything still felt pretty raw, like an exposed nerve, but she knew she would be okay, she knew that she’d be okay if she just kept moving forward. Walking the streets of Seven Devils had always calmed her mind in the summers she’d spent here, and though it had been a long few years since she was last there, she still knew them well.
In fact, she’d been walking on auto-pilot for a while when she realized she was on a familiar street. Or, at least, familiar from the few snail-mail letters she and Cas had sent to each other over the past couple of years. Tugging one of her earbuds out of her ear, she headed up towards the house, seeing the garage door open and someone slouched in a chair, book over their face.
Though it had been a few years, she’d recognize that posture anywhere and she cleared her throat, music softly audible from where the buds were hanging around her neck.
“You know,” she started, sounding more amused and exasperated than anything else, “anyone could just walk up here, if you insist on napping outside it should probably be done out back.”
Had he actually dozed off without interruption for an hour or so he would have been regretting the sunburn later. As fate would have it, Cassidy was saved by a familiar face although it didn’t register right away. Startled, the voice caused him to sit up, the journal falling off his face and into his lap as he set his feet on the ground. It took him a second, to regain his composure, but also to realize who the blond standing before him was. While it had been years since last they actually saw one another save for photos exchanged, it was hard not to recognize those big blue eyes that brightened with every smile. He was a little bit taller now, and his acne had cleared up over the years, but he still dressed the same, and still slouched somewhat.
“Like you, Jacob Marley?!” he said loudly, feigning accusation at her sneaking up on him, even as he got to his feet and grinned happily. She wasn’t dead, didn’t have any obvious casts on broken limbs -- that had to mean the rumors were false, right? He had questions, of course, but he knew better than to bombard her.
Cassidy went in for a hug but hesitated, looking at her in mock seriousness, “Do I need to call you by your title and full name now or are we still casual enough for nicknames?”
“You must only refer to me by my full name and nothing else,” Kitty responded as seriously. She’d noticed how Cas had given her a quick once over, like he was looking for something and there was a slight line of tension in his shoulders that dropped when he didn’t find what he was looking for. She had a feeling she knew what it was, she had a feeling that her aunt wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet about the family tragedy and what had happened but she had hoped it wouldn’t have made its way to her friends.
Still, in a town like this, everyone was in everyone else’s business.
Spotting his hesitation, Kitty made the decision for him and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders for a hug, noting absently that she had to stand on her toes a little; he’d gotten taller. But then, she supposed that was what happened when you didn’t see someone for a few years.
“Someone finally planted you and gave you miracle-gro, huh,” she teased, wanting at least a moment of their old camaraderie before Cas inevitably caved to his curiosity and asked her what was on his mind.
Cassidy laughed gently as he hugged her close for a moment - almost as if he were confirming that she was in fact, real and standing before him. With the amount of sleep he was getting lately, he couldn’t completely negate the possibility of hallucinations. Her comment about sprouting up made him chuckle softly and hold her out at arm’s length. “You know, I’ve always been curious about its Earthy temptations and strong chemical smell.” He cracked a smirk in jest.
“Did you just get back in town?” Cas asked, leaning back against the workbench and running a hand through his jet black hair to keep himself from basically word vomiting in front of her. It was a decent starting off point for the checklist of questions he was forming in his mind. It was vague enough that he didn’t outright corner her -- she was a friend, after all, not a suspicious online troll or possible government agent snooping around town looking for leads. “Or is sneaking up on poor, unsuspecting townspeople with heart conditions your new modus operandi?” he couldn’t help but add teasingly. He didn’t have a heart condition, never did, although his sugar consumption was both a medical mystery and problem.
“I’ve been here for a week or so,” Kitty answered, having rolled her eyes at his comment. Once she thought he was satisfied that she was here and she was okay - or as okay as she could be - she watched him lean back and put her fingers in her pockets, after digging out her phone and turning off her music. No point wearing her battery down. “Wanted to get settled and start work at the hospital, you know? Sort of just… try and settle in again since it’s been a hot minute since I was last here.”
She paused, looking pensive for a moment before she added with a grin, “But I am using my extensive medical training which obviously gives me a plus four to my stealth to test the townsfolk for heretofore unmentioned heart conditions, now you mention it.”
A week or so? The information did nothing for his curiosity. While it took time to secure a job and get through all the background checks and clearances, there was still time to deal with personal matters. Family matters. Especially if she was returning on the heels of the rumored tragedy. “No I get it,” he insisted, feeling somewhat bad about asking now as it hadn’t come from a place of jealousy and she owed him no explanations really. “Seven Devils is an acquired taste to have to readjust to, for sure.” He was glad she was here — is what he should have said.
Cassidy tried to downplay his smirk, glancing at his lazily tied boots for a moment. “So you’re a level twenty-five healer now,” he nodded, clearly impressed. It had taken all of five minutes for him to make a nerdy reference. “I didn’t pass out or pee myself so in terms of testing I think that means I passed, right?”
He leant down and picked up his pencil that had slipped from the leather bound journal, placing it behind one ear. “Also is it bad that I can’t wait to hear some ridiculous trauma stories from the ER?”
“I don’t know, I’ve missed it. The bigger cities have nothing on this place.” In many ways. The magic sang in the air here, and Kitty felt more connected to the magic here than anywhere else. It rushed through her bones with every breath and was exhilarating. “I mean moving here for good is different than coming here for the summer. But it’s okay, I’m excited to stay.” It would be a nice, fresh start. Sort of fresh.
Snorting, Kitty waved her hand, “I mean, I’ve been working hard on my druid training,” she told him, “so it’s about time I start seeing results.” If only he knew how close that might have been to her actual powers: though she was more aligned with water than the ground. Being around her aunt and the coven would help her better learn how to utilise the element in her casting. She’d get some more consistent training, which would be good.
“You passed,” she added, with a chuckle and then stole the chair, sitting down in it and crossing her legs at the knee. “What kind of ridiculous trauma stories are you looking for? We had a guy who “fell”,” she used air quotes, “on a toy train…”
He couldn’t help but raise a brow when she mentioned moving here for good. A smaller, gentler smile crept onto his lips at that. It was just enough to quell the questions he had for a little while. No doubt she would make the town a little bit brighter.
Cassidy gave a quick laugh “I’ve still got all my old campaign books,” he told her fondly. “The treehouse is pretty unstable, though.” It had certainly seen much better days. Not to mention it was at his parents house, and going there meant having to face the comments about school and how he wasn’t eating or sleeping enough and how he needed to find a nice girl because his mom wanted grandkids.
“Exactly those kinds,” he said excitedly, though pulled a face at the idea of having to address such a situation. There was no way he could muster the maturity to do so. He sat on the edge of the workbench and faced her, balancing himself by pivoting his weight to one leg. “I guess Thomas the tank engine took a wrong turn.”
“Anything exceptionally far out there, like people swearing they were abducted by aliens or claiming to see Mothman and insistent on being kept in observation?” Oh yes, he was still rich with conspiracy theories and supernatural lore.
“It’s all digital now,” Kitty said with a lift of her shoulder. “Easier to do a search for something than stress flip through pages.” She shifted on the chair and watched him settle, the excitement on his face at the news of her patient causing her to laugh a little.
People always wanted to hear the funny ones, the ones that were embarrassing and awkward. They came through a lot more during her time at New York Presbyterian and the ER was always much busier during holidays.
“Everyone turns into a dumbass during national holidays,” she said. “I would say that you’d be surprised at how many sex-related injuries we get but I’m pretty sure it’d take more than that to shock you.”
She tipped her head, looking at him for a moment before she shook her head. “No mothman, sorry. We had one guy who came in off his colazoprine and was convinced the Furies were after him.” She’d blessed him once or twice, just in case he wasn’t crazy and was actually being psychically tortured. She hadn’t been able to tell, and she never wanted to take the risk. “One person was apparently married to Nessie.” She paused. “It- uh, yeah, mostly it was the psych patients.”
Her shoulder hitched. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Although his interests in her stories were rather juvenile, Cas fully respected her chosen career and the work she did. He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be able to do half the things she did on a good day, let alone under the pressures of doctors yelling at her or during cardiac arrests. “You’re probably right, I do tend to desensitize myself to a lot on a regular basis,” he chuckled.
Could thank the internet for that, really.
His eyes widened at the mention of Nessie — now she was speaking his language. Maybe he needed to volunteer at the local hospital’s psych wing, sometime. “Disappoint? Not a chance. Now I’m reconsidering my degree or at least some volunteering,” Cassidy told her with a grin. “Pick their brains a little.”
He paused, looking at her as his mind circled back to all the questions he had no answers for. “So your Aunt has to be really pleased you’re staying,” he probed gently. “Think she’d mind if I stole you away for the afternoon for burgers and shakes?” Cassidy offered.
Kitty laughed again. “I promise you if you showed even the tiniest bit of interest in some of the patients that I deal with in New York they’d have talked your ear off. I made the mistake of showing interest in one who was convinced that Bluebook, or, uh Bluebird? The one about aliens that was half declassified, you know? And I got an hour of… ‘conversation’.” Thankfully most of the facts had purged themselves from her brain.
Anything that had sounded too close to the truth, though, Kitty had made a note and reached out to her contacts to help them properly in a way she wouldn’t be able to.
At the mention of her aunt, and the conversation swinging back around to her arrival, she nodded. “In a way, I think she’s glad to get me away from my mom.” Violet had it in her head that her sister wasn’t teaching Kitty properly, by having taken her away from the coven and away from anyone else who could teach her. “Now she can teach me about our family history properly, and the- the sort of more... “ she waved a hand, “homeopathic medicines.”
Glancing at her watch, Kitty shook her head. “She’s not expecting me back for a while, as long as I text her to let her know where I am she won’t worry. Why, do you wanna take me for burgers and shakes, Cassidy?”
“Project Blue Book,” he confirmed, a little too enthusiastically, nodding. He wasn’t sure he’d get any decent facts or stories he could actually research, but it’d still be entertaining to say the least.
She mentioned her mom, not her parents — was it possible the rumors were true? Surely, time spent talking over some food would fill in the blanks. “Miracle-gro,” Cassidy nodded in understanding, joking of course.
He smiled brightly, genuinely. “What kind of native would I be if I didn’t show some of that Seven Devils hospitality?” he countered, standing and reaching for his helmet. “We have to take that, though,” Cassidy said, motioning to his bike before holding out the helmet to her.
“I promise it’s not going to break down along the way.” He paused again. “I’m seventy-five percent sure, it’s not going to break down.”
Kitty snorted, “Only seventy-five percent?” she asked, “that sounds risky.” As much as she was mostly teasing, there was a slight undercurrent of concern, visible mainly in the way the finger of her left hand rubbed against the thumbnail on her right. But she couldn’t be anxious about travelling forever, otherwise she’d really have to walk everywhere and on some level that was just as risky, if not moreso. At least in a car-
She visibly shook her head to dislodge the start of those spiralling thoughts and stood up to take the helmet, tucking it under her arm while she wound her headphones up and slipped them more securely into a pocket of her jeans.
“I’m glad you didn’t say ‘famous’ Seven Devils hospitality,” she commented, eyebrow quirking as she added, “and if you make fun of my helmet hair I’m going to punch you in the arm. I know all about nerves now. I could make you have to eat one handed for half an hour.”
Cassidy glanced at her mannerism before he took a few steps down the workbench to get his extra helmet, swiping the cobwebs out of it quickly before placing it on his head. It wouldn’t be a ride to try and show off — he didn’t feel like he needed to, even if they both were older, but he could tell she was nervous about the motorcycle.
“I would never,” Cas gasped if mock offense. Chuckling, he buckled the strap of the helmet under his chin. “And I would very much not like a Vulcan neck pinch, thank you,” he insisted, grinning as he swung a leg over the motorcycle, scooching up as close as he could so she had room to sit behind him. “God, you’re like a Russian spy now or something. What do they teach you in nursing school?” he teased.
“I am swift, like cat, and I can kill you with pencil,” Cassidy continued, teasing her, in an absolutely horrid Russian accent.
Kitty put her helmet on and slung her leg over the bike, settling behind Cassidy and laughing. “No,” she replied in an equally horrible Russian accent, “I am more like spider, I will kill you in sleep when you least expect.”
She poked him in the shoulder and then settled her hands on the seat behind her, fingers catching on the small metal hand-hold on either side of the seat.
“I feel like we’re in a lifetime special,” she added, balanced carefully as she waited for him to start the bike moving.
A swift kick back against the stand, Cassidy balanced the bike as she got on behind him. Her accent made him laugh, glancing back at her for a moment, clearly impressed. “Alright Black Widow,” he told her, unable to resist the comic book reference. He pulled the choke out and turned the ignition key, the bike stuttering something fierce before maintaining a steady hum. It was old, a classic, and he would literally run the thing into the ground before giving it up.
“That’s the new normal!” Cas yelled as reassuringly as he could. He didn’t rev the engine or take off right away, keeping in mind the story that he had yet to uncover and that she had been avoiding. Instead, he crept down the small drive, walking the bike pretty much to the road.
“I’m not saying I’ve watched any, but typically they hold onto the driver don’t they?” he asked teasingly, not minding either way. Cas started off slowly down the road, heading for the diner.
Kitty rolled her eyes and kept her hands on the pillar at least until they started moving. As they took their first corner though she reached out and put her hands on his waist, fingers curling in the fabric of his jacket, falling quiet for the drive as they headed through the town. It was nice to see how much had changed in a few years, but also how much had stayed the same. There was a comforting certainty about the town.
The drive was nice, and she appreciated how he wasn’t racing around, not that he would have anyway, or at least she hoped.
As they moved, her hold relaxed slightly, feeling herself smiling as they came to a halt outside their final destination.
“You’re not a bad driver,” she teased, “and your bike made it. Against all odds.”
He broke a smile when she finally had to actually hold onto him. On his own he was a little more reckless and carefree, that is until he noticed a strange sound, or worse - noticed something strange on the side of the road that caused him to turn around and investigate. But he purposely kept in mind that not everyone was as comfortable on two wheels as he was. Then again, keeping the older motorcycle no doubt kept him alive — if he had anything newer or fancier he would probably drive it like a toy.
Once they arrived and he walked the bike into a parking spot, he sat up and gave the kickstand a nudge with his foot. “What can I say, I like an underdog,” Cas smiled back at her, turning the engine off. Taking his helmet off, he put it over the one handle before motioning to the diner. “Is it everything you remember? I’m pretty sure they still haven’t painted it since we were kids,” he insisted, only half-joking. Still, it was a staple for locals and the broke college crowd.
Kitty carefully got off the bike and unclipped the helmet, tugging it off and putting it on the other handle. Looking up at the diner - and checking that her phone hadn’t fallen out of her pocket on the ride over - she shook her head. “Definitely hasn’t changed that much. Looks like the seats have been upholstered though.” She’d spent many a summer picking at the fraying leather and holes that had been created by countless feet and heels dragging over it. “Everything else still the same?”
She paused before she walked in, “I- They haven’t changed their milkshake recipe again, right?” They’d done that the summer she was thirteen and her world had been thoroughly rocked. It had taken her a full summer to get used to the change and even then the next year it had still thrown her off.
“They don’t have that familiar crackle anymore when you sit on them,” he said, sounding almost disappointed as he got off the bike after her. Cassidy stopped when she paused though, grinning a little. “They put the malt powder back in,” he told her. So if anything, they had changed it back.
“Either that or they added cocaine to them, because they’re that addicting again,” Cas insisted. Although he was pretty biased — basically anything that was full of sugar or even remotely unhealthy, he devoured without a second thought. Still, he had fond memories of the group of friends rushing down to the diner on their bikes before their high school years, racing to see who could finish their shake first without puking, then having to walk their bikes back home with full bellies.
Cas held the door open for her before walking in himself, leaving her to pick a booth or spot at the counter. “You can’t tell me you haven’t had a decent milkshake in years, though?” he asked, almost in disbelief.
Kitty moved over towards a booth and leaned on the back of the chair before she looked at him with her eyebrows lifted. “Of course I’ve had milkshakes,” she said, “but my job back at ho- well, there’s not a lot of time for nursing students or grads to drink anything but coffee and water so it’s not like I’ve been able to treat myself in a while.”
Her shoulder hitched and then she sat down. She could get the second round of milkshakes, as they definitely had catching up to do.
“Hey Cas? Strawberry with white chocolate shavings.” The request came with a little grin.
He pursed his lips with a shake of his head. “That’s a downright sin,” he insisted. “The medical field is completely heartless to the simple joys of life.” Although, put enough sugar in coffee and it was alright to get you through. Energy drinks were better though, got the heart pumping fast enough to keep you from nodding off.
Cas turned on his heels to face Kitty, taking her order with a smirk and little salute. “As you wish.” He would refuse to let her pay for a second round, or even contribute to the tip — he wasn’t joking about the hospitality thing. He may be a mostly-broke grad student but he could always annoy the Men of Letters enough to help pay his rent or something. He leaned over the counter briefly, getting the attention of the waitress to place their orders.
“I ordered a basket of fries too,” he said, finally plopping down on the booth cushion opposite of Kitty. He wanted to ask about her parents, and by this point in hanging out he didn’t want to ask and seem absent-minded. It had been on his mind the entire time.
His hand reached up to run through his hair, tussling it to get rid of any matting his helmet might’ve done. “So I heard a rumor about you a little while ago, and I figured that’s why you got quiet but I didn’t look into it myself,” he finally admitted, diving right into it because if he didn’t he’d be dancing around the subject all night awkwardly. “I was worried what the outcome might be..”
“Mm, fries,” Kitty hummed, pleased with the thought that they were clearly going to be doing the burger-and-shake thing seriously. New York had more than its fair share of decent milkshake places, and more than its fair share of great diners but they didn’t have the same sentimentality as this place, didn’t have the memories attached to it. It meant that even if the food was better somewhere else, it wasn’t. Not really.
She tugged her own hair over her shoulder, finger combing the tangles out and then leaning back into the chair, watching Cassidy fight with himself before asking whatever it was that had been on his mind. She pressed her teeth together and wondered if it had been her aunt or someone else who had known her father and she just shook her head a little.
“It depends on what you heard,” she said honestly. Her aunt was very melodramatic, after all. “I- Did you hear about the crash? And my d- About my dad?”
He watched her mannerisms for a moment, wondering if he really should have asked or waited for her to bring it up. Cas’ hands fiddled with a sugar packet idly. “Yeah,” he answered, still looking at her, trying to gauge whether or not the conversation was taking a turn they couldn’t recover from the rest of the night.
“But you know me with gossip, if it’s not about Bigfoot or cryptids it doesn’t really stick with me,” Cassidy said in attempts to make her feel better. He didn’t want her to think the entire town had been bustling with news of the crash and her father. “I figured if it was true you’d bring it up when you were ready, and, then you showed up and well here we are-” he commented, motioning vaguely around them, “me unable to resist unanswered questions.”
He paused thoughtfully.
“I’m sorry, for bringing it up,” Cas added quickly, shifting in his seat. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he insisted.
Kitty snorted though it was lacking in humour. “One day your inability to resist a mystery is gonna get you into more trouble than you’re counting on and there might not be someone around to get you out of it.” She knew most of his theories were harmless, especially the ones that were related to Bigfoot and the wilder side of paranatural conspiracy but sometimes he hit pretty close to the mark and it was hard for Kitty not to just blurt the truth out to him. She’d always hated having to keep secrets from her close friends, those that weren’t already ‘in the know’.
Secrets just weren’t a thing she liked.
“Not really the kind of thing you just wanna bring up randomly, Cas,” she added. “But in short: car accident. He’s gone. I was hurt bad enough to need hospitalisation but it was a miracle I didn’t actually die. A guardian angel was looking out for me that day. Don’t wanna be at home anymore, my mom’s lost it completely and Vi offered to let me stay with her until I find my feet here and my own place to live.”
Her shoulder lifted. “It’s really not as interesting as it probably sounded from whatever she decided was the better, more salacious story.”
Little did she know just how true her own theory was - and that he’d already found himself at the bottom of a deep rabbit hole, years ago, having to negotiate his own way out. Cassidy was lucky that the Men of Letters had taken his demands in kindness and not just.. made it so he ‘disappeared’ one day.
Cassidy’s expression fell completely vacant of anything but sympathy as he finally got the true story - albeit an abridged one, which he was fine with. “I’m sorry, Kitty,” he told her genuinely, in a brief moment of undeniable earnest.
“I’m really glad you’re alright. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a mini panic attack when she told me,” Cas admitted. “I had to leave my phone at school for a few days so I didn’t start drudging anything up.” He may have had a couple drinks, gotten lost in the woods even, and convinced himself she was fine and just busy and that her Aunt liked her gossip and blowing things out of proportion.
The waitress brought their orders over, setting the strawberry shake in front of Kitty and the chocolate for Cas, the basket of fries rightfully in the middle of the table. Cas said a quick thank you before looking at Kitty, almost a little embarrassed. “A toast to me killing the mood?” he offered jokingly, desperate to change the subject and bounce back from the serious tone the conversation took.
Kitty was glad when the waitress came over, honestly, because she still wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to process people saying they were sorry or giving her that look. Or how it made her feel, that twisting knot of guilt and grief that gnawed at her insides whenever she let herself think about it for too long. Having something to hold onto was helpful and she curled her fingers around the milkshake and lifted it.
“A toast to you bringing the mood down,” she agreed and the smile that accompanied it was, at least, genuine. “You can make up for it by catching me up on the gossip I’ve missed in the last few years. There has to be a lot of it.”
And besides, sitting with a friend drinking milkshakes and eating fries was the perfect way to just reintegrate herself into a town that had always felt more like home.
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