Current music:	"Guess I'm doing fine" : Beck
Entry tags:	character: katherine athena, character: npc, narrative, npc: bart allen, plot: sympathy for the devil

"I just wade the tides that turned..."
Who: the Athena family - Katherine, Caio, Isa, and Rafe - as well as Bart Allen
What: Katherine wants to tell her family that she's going to go public with her wild card. The entire experience is made of failure.
When: Thursday (ish), June 30 to Monday, July 5 (the time scale on this is relative)
Where: Katherine's home, her office, then her parents' home
Status: Closed; complete

“You don’t have to pack my clothes, Kat. That’s why you hired Consuelo.” Bart’s voice was as it always had been, like a warm blanket wrapped over her shoulders. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“I gave her the week off.”

“It can wait. I’m in Beijing Tuesday for a week.”

“I know.” Her fingers wrapped the cord around themselves. “It’s on your calendar.” A slight hitch in her breath, followed by silence on the other end for a moment.

“Kat-“ The pause grew.

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t be so stubborn.”

“You already said that.”

“I know. Good night.” He hung up the phone first. He always had.

* * *

She didn’t set the receiver down for a long time. When she did, it was to go upstairs and into his room, to press her face against the robe he’d left hanging on the back of his door.

That took longer.

* * *

Katherine couldn’t concentrate in her meetings. It had nothing to do with the day or the people or the place. One meeting blurred into the next, blurred into the next, and into the next. Words wove themselves into clouds, drifting past her as she, too, drifted, her eyes tracing lines of paper, not of faces. She didn’t call Alistair to cancel her Monday appointments; instead, she texted. Disappointment was best suited to short sentences.

* * *

“Katie,” her mother rose as she entered the room. Isa Athena was still an attractive woman, the fact more pronounced with a recent anti-aging treatment. Katherine looked older than her mother, the darkness under her eyes so deep that it cast shadows across the rest of her face. “Your father’s in the study- there’s some film he’s reviewing. About who knows what, he’s touchy these days. Rafe’s in town.”

The sentence hung in the air.

“I suppose he wants money.”

“Don’t be unkind, Katie,” Isa said, her face tightening. It smoothed out quickly. Her mother didn’t dare create more lines on her face than was necessary. “He’s having a rough time.”

“So am I, Mom.”

“That’s different.” And Katherine saw in Isa’s face that this was not an argument she could win, nor was it worth having.

“What are we having for lunch?” She asked instead. Her mother looked faintly guilty. “I suppose, it’s vegetarian. Eggplant parmesan?” Isa nodded, trying desperately not to pinch her mouth. It was Rafe’s favorite dish. After all these years, Katherine thought, they’re still pandering to him. What has he done now?

She handed her mother the bottle of wine that she’d brought. A Lacrima Cristi Rosso. It went well with her brother’s favorite meal. She’d known he’d manage to find a way to insert himself in the situation—after all, he was the one who’d be doing most of the drinking.

“I’ll find Dad,” she said.

* * *

He was sitting in the study as her mother had promised, slouched across his old battered chair, the one that Isa was forever trying to get rid of. Caio clung to it, however, as a captain might to his wheel, and somehow, it always managed to find its way home. Katherine admired that about her father—even though she knew that he kept a storage unit full of the same ugly brown model. Eventually, Isa would win out.

“What are you watching, Dad?” She sat on the couch, kicking her shoes off and folding her legs like she was the same young girl she’d been thirty-five years ago. He didn’t seem to notice that she wasn’t.

“Katie- I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“I didn’t know either.” She curled her legs underneath her, ignoring the rub of her skirt against her knee. It was going to crease and she didn’t care. “I just… wanted to come home.”

“We weren’t expecting you. And Rafe’s home. It’s wonderful to have the whole family together.” He genuinely meant that. “If we’d known-“

“It’s okay, Dad. It’s enough to just be here.” She smiled slightly. “I can eat eggplant for a night. I’m not twelve anymore.” Her throat caught a little on the last sentence. Caio was looking at her strangely, his face confused. How was she going to tell them what she planned? Breaking the news about Bart had been bad enough and her brother hadn’t been there. Katherine tensed, then lied, “It’s okay, Dad. I just swallowed something down the wrong pipe. Do you remember how I always used to do that when I was little and then spit milk out my nose? Spit- well, that’s hardly the word for it.”

He relaxed into laughter as he picked up his remote control to start the film going again.

Her head swiveled, eyes suddenly fixing on the screen. A joker woman with three arms and six eyes- and she was holding knives in each hand, slashing at innocent nats. Her fingers flew to her mouth and her father glanced over at her with a shake of his head and a slight laugh.

“Oh, Katie, it’s fine. You’re not one of those jokers.” His gaze went back to the television. “Besides, it’s not as if anyone knows.”

“No,” the words struggled out as her smile grew impossibly wide and strong, touching the edges of both eyes. “I’m definitely not one of those jokers.”

* * *

Rafe wasn’t at the table. Katherine poured herself a second glass of wine to wash the taste of eggplant from her mouth as her father looked on, his mouth clenched tightly shut. I’m not the one who ended up a drunk, she thought but kept silent. Her mother sensed the tension and lightly tapped her fork against her glass to break it.

“To what do we owe the visit, Katie?” Her voice was polite and not quite concerned.

Katherine’s hands balled around her napkin, discreetly hidden under the table.

“It’s about my career.”

“Hon.” Her father leaned forward. “We won’t let Bart do anything to damage it. You’ve got a strong staff-let them spin this for you-“

“It’s not Bart. It’s me.” Her jaw tightened as she sat up in her chair, back straight and still. Her mother’s fingers slowly slipped around her wineglass, the knuckles whitening around the stem. From the corner of her eye, Katherine could see their servant scurrying from the room, the ears on her mouse’s head quivering slightly. Her parents had always employed jokers for menial positions. Never for anything that counted. “I’ve made a decision-“

Her words were washed away by the heavy footstep of her younger brother. Katherine smelled Rafe before she even saw him, the cloying choke of old grapes and urine. He pulled out the chair next to her, sitting backwards on it and leaning his cheek into the edge.

“Kitty-“ He slurred her name as he had for years. “Mom. Dad. Too late to eat?”

“Katie was just about to tell us something, Raphael.” Caio pronounced his full name like a death sentence. “Your plate’s at the other end of the table.” Even her parents were wise enough not to seat them next to one another.

Katherine glanced at her mother’s face. It was softer than it had been for her daughter since the moment Katherine arrived. Isa patted the seat next to her, her attention clearly now focused on her son. The nat. Katherine tried not to let her anger control her but it was showing, she knew, her hands clenching harder around her napkin.

“I’ll sit next to Sis,” Rafe drawled. “It’s been ages.”

“Oh, yes,” Katherine’s smile remained perfect and bright. “Since you crashed the Republican National Convention, threw yourself into the pool naked, and tried to sleep with Grinn Huxley’s wife and daughter? Simultaneously?”

“Don’t smile at me like that, Kitty. I’m not a camera.”

“No. Cameras-or the people behind them-sometimes have taste.” She stood, throwing the napkin on her plate. “I’m sorry but I think I have an appointment.”

“With who? Your husband?”

“Rafe!” Isa’s voice shot through the sudden gasp in the kitchen.

“No, actually. I’m in the process of a divorce,” Katherine said coldly. “You really should read some of those newspapers you sell my private information to. It might be educational.” Her brother halted, a faint, deeper flush burning his already-reddened cheeks. “Thank you, Mom, Dad. It’s been a lovely evening. Rafe, it’s been- well. Entertaining.”

Isa’s hands were trembling. Her mother was about to light a cigarette. How strange it is that I know them so well and they don’t know me at all. She wanted them to say something about her brother’s bad behavior and yet, it was her that they were looking at, as if she’d done something wrong.

But she had, she knew as her hand rested against her left shoulder. ”I was nine.” The words had come so easily when speaking to Alistair. She wondered what their version of the story would be.

“What were you going to tell us?” Caio cut through both her thoughts and the sounds of her mother’s inhaling, her brother’s rocking of the chair leg on the floor. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“I’m going public,” she said as she picked up her purse and slid it over her shoulder. “With everything.” As she expected, she was greeted with silence. “The end of the month. I think now’s the time to book that cruise, Dad.”

And with that, she walked out the door.