He was scaring her, this quiet calm far more frightening than his threats and fists ever could have been. She quivered under that soft green gaze, trembled before his gentle smile, and hated him for doing this, hated him for pretending to love her.

"I'm sorry that Jax stopped us before, but he's gone now, and we can go back home. Don't you want to go home? It'll be just us again, like before." Kat stared at him in disbelief, backing away, away, until she felt the wall stop her escape. He crept closer and kept smiling that unnerving smile. "I bought us a house. In Oregon, where we used to live, remember? Don't you want to see?"

Why was he doing this? Why was he being so... so nice? So friendly? As if he expected her to be the same, expected her to be happy he was here, pleased with his offer. It made her angrier because she didn't understand it at all, and she started screaming at him before she coud stop herself.

Words poured out, venomous words. He continued to beg and she continued to scream, snarling and spitting into his face, telling him she didn't want him, telling him to go away. Finally he stopped in his approach and stared down at her, and Kat put all the years of hatred for this man into three simple words.

"I HATE YOU!"

Something in his eyes changed, and she pressed herself more into the corner. Kat remembered that look. In an instant it felt as if she were a little child again, cowering against his wrath, because she remembered, too, what he would do to her. He stepped closer, towered over her, his face twisted and his voice cold, vicious, and finally his.

"I will not go away," he growled at her. "But what I will do is take you with me."

Despite her fear of him she shook her head, dared to defy him. "I won't, I won't! I won't go anywhere with you! Mode won't let you take me anywhere!"

She expected him to become more angry, perhaps to hit her, but she was not expecting him to laugh. It was snide and amused enough to make her stomach go cold, and she stopped yelling when he smiled at her nastily.

"Oh, he won't let me? But how is he going to stop me, Katera, if he's in Charybdis?"

...Charybdis?

"He's not in Charybdis," she contradicted automatically, glaring up at him. "He's here."

"But Kitten, he is. They took him just a few hours ago."

"He's here," she repeated, more vehemently this time. "You're lying. Stop lying."

"Vaisou and I made a tidy little deal while I was away. I paid him money, and he made sure that Terrence wouldn't be here any longer. How else do you think I could come back here?"

Kat's stomach twisted into knots at his words, but she wouldn't let herself be fooled. She wouldn't, because Mode [i[wasn't[/i] in Charybdis. He was at work, and soon he would be home to put a stop to this. He would be angry, and he'd hurt Robert, maybe kill him, even. Kat didn't care, as long as he went away and stopped torturing her with these lies.

"You didn't!" She tried to be calm, cold, but her voice insisted on betraying her, scaling higher and higher as she spoke. "He's not in Charybdis. You're lying! He works for the IA. They wouldn't send him to Charybdis!" Her nails dug into her palms as she wrung her hands, her protests more to convince herself than him; for although Kat refused to believe anything he told her, she couldn't stop the little voice that wondered if it were true. "He'll be home soon, and you're going to be sorry, Daddy! You should have stayed away!"

Robert laughed at her again and she looked up to meet his eyes, defiant disbelief in her own. "You're lying," she said one more time, and his chuckle died. "No, Katera," he said quietly. "I'm not."

"Mode won't let you take me anywhere!"

That made him smile despite himself. Did she really believe there was any choice in the matter? He wasn't fool enough to come back for her without dealing with her Jax first; yet here she was, threatening him with the boy's intervention. Robert laughed, Katera immediately quieted, and the triumphant light in his eyes sparkled dangerously. "Oh, he won't let me? But how is he going to stop me, Katera, if he's in Charybdis?"

Her face paled a little, and Robert's smile grew. He hadn't intended to tell her like this; before he had imagined she would take to the news favorably, pleased that he had finally gotten rid of the boy whom she hadn't managed yet to kill. Now that that illusion had crumbled, he wanted only to draw as much satisfaction as he could from her reaction. If he couldn't have her pleasure, then he'd just have to take her pain.

She argued with him, even now, contradicting him when he told her that Terrence was indeed at Charybdis. She started shouting again, telling him that he was a liar, and it just made him smile, because he knew it to be the truth, even if she refused to believe it. That was exactly what she was doing, too-- refusing to believe-- and he listened to her try to convince them both that he was lying, a half-smile on his face, a little twinkle in his eyes.

I never lie to you, Katera. Even when you were a child, I always told the truth. It's only that you didn't believe me, and that I had to make you believe.

"No, Katera," he finally interrupted. "I'm not."

"YOU ARE SO!" she screeched at him, and he had just opened his mouth to correct her again when she threw herself at him. Startled from his smug amusement, Robert hit the floor flat on his back, with Katera clinging to his chest. She started hitting him, scratching her nails across his face, and his good mood abruptly vanished. He hit her back. The blow connected squarely with the side of her head and allowed him to shove her off of him, his fists coming down to hit her again as she curled on the floor, trying to shield herself from his blows.

"You're lying, you're lying," her voice continued to whimper, no matter how many times he hit her, and Robert lost his temper and picked her up by the collar. She hung limply from his hands, her face bloody, and he shook her until she managed to raise her chin to look at him. "You're lying," she whispered again, and he threw her against the wall.

"I'm not lying, Katera," he told her in a reasonable tone of voice, standing over her and watching as she twisted in upon herself and trembled. "I was there when the guards took him away. He's going to Charybdis, and that's the end of it. There's no use fighting with me. What's done is done."

She muttered something that was too quiet for him to hear, and Robert sighed and knelt down beside her. He pushed the curls away from her face, and she tried to pull away, but he was tired of her resistance. The same large hands that had pummeled her only moments before now twisted into her hair, and he lifted her head so that she would have to meet his eyes. "We'll go back to Earth. I'll even let you bring the little runt with you. You'll like it there. I know you will."

Her eyes narrowed, and he frowned, ready to hit her again if she tried to attack him, but then she laughed. She laughed. It was bitter and sharp, like broken glass, and for a moment he didn't know how to respond. He blinked at her, and she smiled, the vicious little smile he'd always remembered on her, and Robert's uncertainty vanished as he returned the grin. "See? I knew you'd understand."

"Did you really send him away, Daddy?" She slowly sat up and curled against him, and he put his arms around her. "Did you really make him go away, just like Jax?" Her voice was breathy and light, just as he remembered it being when she was a child, and he bent down and kissed her forehead in response.

"You're lying," she told her father, over and over again, unconcerned with the blood running down her face, unaware of the bruises beginning to darken over her skin. "You're lying." And he was. He had to be. Mode loved her-- he loved her, Katera Terrence, his wife-- and he couldn't be gone, because he had promised never to leave her. He had promised that he would stay with her forever, and it couldn't be forever if he were in Charybdis.

Robert picked her up and shook her, and Kat raised her eyes slowly. "You're lying," she whispered again, waiting for him to smile and tell her it was all a joke, but he didn't. Instead, he threw her against the wall, and she impact and slid limply to the floor.

"I'm not lying, Katera," he said calmly, and she shivered. "I was there when the guards took him away. He's going to Charybdis, and that's the end of it. There's no use fighting with me. What's done is done."

No. You are lying. Mode isn't gone. He'll never leave me.

She mumbled the last, too softly for him to overhear, and buried her face in her hands until she felt his fingers tangle into her hair. For a moment she imagined wildly that it was Mode kneeling beside her, his hands in her curls, and she held her breath and waited for his voice, but it didn't come. Those hands tightened and lifted her head from the ground, and instead of Mode her father's face came into view.

"We'll go back to Earth. I'll even let you bring the little runt with you. You'll like it there. I know you will."

And that was when Kat finally accepted the truth.

There was no rational train of thought, no sudden understanding. Perhaps she didn't accept the truth at all, but rather finally gave up resisting. Whether or not he was lying suddenly didn't matter anymore, because the part of herself that she had held down for so long came swimming to the surface, and it was unconcerned with Robert's lies. It simply didn't care. It had more important matters to concern itself with.

Her entire expression changed, like a mask sliding away, and the fearful disbelief disappeared. It was much the same transformation that Robert had undergone but a few minutes earlier; her eyes narrowed, sharpened, and a smile came to her lips. She laughed, and he grinned at her, which made her own smirk wider, because he didn't understand. If he had, he would have hit her again, would have killed her then, but he didn't. "See?" He said blithely, so clueless to the true meaning of her happiness. "I knew you'd understand."

Oh, I do, Daddy. I understand perfectly that now I'm going to kill you, like I should have done all those years ago.

From out of nowhere her voice appeared, wavery and little-girl sweet. "Did you really send him away, Daddy?" Her injuries were forgotten as she coiled sinuously against him, smiling to herself as he hugged her to him. "Did you really make him go away, just like Jax?"

He kissed her forehead. "Yes, Kitten, I did."

"Then I want to leave, Daddy," she told him, pulling away and standing. He stood too, and she smoothed the curls back from her face, dusted the dirt from off of her uniform. "I want to leave now. Let me go change, and get my things, and we can go."

"Of course, Kitten." He let her go, and Kat tried not to run straight for the bedroom. She was excited, so excited, and it took an enormous effort not to give herself away just yet. Slowly, so slowly, she walked into the room that she and Mode shared. Slowly, so slowly, she opened the bedside table. Then slowly, so slowly, she reentered the living room and stood to face her father.

"Done already, Kitten?" he asked her, and she smiled. "No, Daddy, not quite."

And then she pointed the pistol at him.

See? She was always just like us, even when she pretended to be otherwise. My little, precious, vicious Katera, just as I made her to be. And now she'll be mine again, like it was before Jax.

He watched her retreat into her bedroom, listened to the little shuffling noises she made. His smile grew as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned lazily against the wall, already imagining their journey back to Earth, her pleasure at the house he had bought for them, her surprise at all the gifts he had gotten her...

It didn't seem more than a few moments later when she emerged from the other room, and he ran his eyes slowly over her, from boots to the faded scar across her cheek, the scar exactly like the one he too wore, and she smiled at him. "Done already, Kitten?" he asked, and her expression grew radiant, her grin suddenly knowing and secret.

"No, Daddy, not quite," she said, and then his smug, satisfied happiness faded when she pulled her hand from behind her back. "You're not dead yet."

There was a fletchette pistol leveled at his head, and Robert stared down the black, never-ending barrel and felt the blood drain from his face.

What is this? Katera, you little hellcat, you wouldn't dare, don't you dare...

Her smile grew as his shrank, and she stepped closer, flicked the pistol a little and nodded to herself. "It's a very nice gun, isn't it?" she asked him conversationally. "I would have preferred my dagger, but I don't seem to have it anymore. Mode's service pistol will just have to do."

That nonchalant tone snapped him from his reverie, and Robert grew furious. She wouldn't kill him. She had never been able to, even after all these years; and now that Terrence wasn't here to do her dirty work, he doubted it would even go so far as it had last time. He wouldn't leave. He would take her with him, and this little fletchette she waved like a toy wouldn't stop him.

"Put the gun down, Kitten," he commanded her angrily, taking a step forward and putting out a hand. "Give it to me, before you get hurt."

She smiled and hissed, a nasty little spit of noise. "No, you'll get hurt, Daddy. Daddy daddy daddy, I'm going to kill you, don't you see?"

"You're not going to kill anyone," he told her, managing to be reasonable, despite his rage and the gun now periously close to his face. "And you don't want Jacks to see you with a weapon, now do you?"

"Shut up!" she screamed at him suddenly, her face contorted, and he stopped. "Don't you talk about him! Don't you say his name! He's mine, mine! I know you have him! I know you took him! Give him back!"

"He's somewhere safe, Kitten. We're supposed to pick him up on the way to our shuttle, so we have to hurry, see?" The lie came easily, as all the other lies had, and Robert reached out again. "Now get your things and let's get going. We'll be late if you don't hurry."

She kicked at him and screamed again. "I'm not going anywhere with you! Give him back! GIVE HIM BACK!"

"SO YOU CAN KILL HIM?!" he bellowed at her, and she jumped, the hand around the pistol butt shaking as she stared at him. "He looks just like Mode, just like Jaxen... are you going to kill him too, precious? Do you want me to? I will, just for you. Then they'll all be gone."

Her eyes were wide and her voice whispery. "I... I didn't kill him."

"Oh, you did, precious. Don't you remember? I wasn't even there, and I remember. Did he cry? Did he beg for you, like Terrence begged?" He couldn't stop, not now, not when he had her pale and trembling, so close to giving in to him. "So concerned, and all for you. 'Don't hurt her'... 'I love her'... did Jax tell you he loved you, before you killed him? Did he love you even when you stabbed him in the ba--"

"SHUT UP!" She whirled away from him, her hands over her ears, her eyes tightly closed, keeling over and stumbling away. "I didn't! I didn't! I loved him, I did, but he didn't! He made me! He made me!"

Robert smiled at her back. "No he didn't, kitten. You did it. Just like you've sent Terrence to Charybdis. It was all you. It was always you."

"I HATE YOU!" she screamed wildly, and then she was holding the pistol at him again. "I HATE YOU!"

He started to speak, but odd thwapping noises distracted him from his words, and Robert stared at her in disbelief as the voice died in his throat.

"I HATE YOU, DADDY!"

How... odd. He was trying to speak again, now, and for some reason nothing was happening. All of a sudden he felt dizzy, dreamy, as if he were so tired that his eyes couldn't possibly stay open, and when he reached out to her he realized that his hands were covered in blood.

"...Katera?" he managed to say, and she stood over him as he fell and continued to scream, tears running down her face. "Kit..te...n...?"

Her voice came from far in the distance. "Go away, Daddy."

He'd always known just what to say, what to do, to make her feel pain. Whether it be blood or tears, or both, he beat her down and tore it from her, made her feel every single cut, made her believe every single lie. He accused her of killing Jax, of sending Mode away, and she believed him. Even the hatred inside her shrank before his words, and Kat trembled, shook, screamed... and tried not to break.

I didn't, I didn't... I loved him. I love Mode. I had to kill Jax but I saved Mode, I protected him, because I love him too. I love him so much, and he took him from me again. They always leave...

Her son was forgotten, everything, even the pistol in her hand, as she started to cry. All her unspoken fears, her guilt, her self-hatred, it all came bubbling up inside of her, and Kat pressed her hands over her ears and screamed so that she wouldn't have to listen to him, closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see him. He kept taunting her, even now, and she was ready to give in, if only he would stop saying such terrible truths.

But then something happened.

"I HATE YOU!" she heard herself shouting, her voice wild and desperate. "I HATE YOU, DADDY!" And then she was moving, her hands tight around the pistol she had been carrying, her arms steady despite the violent tremors that shook the rest of her. He looked at her, met her eyes, and her own narrowed as she stared into endless, endless emerald and made him stop lying.

She fired, and once her finger hit the trigger the first time she couldn't stop. Tears were pouring down her face and still she fired blindly. Her fingers could barely pull the trigger, and still she shot him wildly. He held out bloody hands to her, stumbled, fell, whispered words to her, but once it began she had no control, and even when he lay motionless at her feet she continued to fire until the pistol clicked empty.

Her breath was coming fast and shallow, and Kat thought she would faint. Her knees gave way and she sank to the floor beside her father, staring at his face, his features slack and his eyes closed, and she touched his arm lightly. "...daddy?" He didn't answer, and she tried again, shaking him to make him wake. "Daddy? Daddy?! You're bleeding!"

No, he's not bleeding. He's dead. Dead. I killed him.

Kat pressed her hands to her mouth and screamed anyway, the sound shrill and muffled. He was dead, and she had killed him. She had killed her father.

The door was locked, of course. He passed his cardkey across the plate and it slid open anyway.

Well, shit.

The camera view had been far kinder than the up close. Katera was curled up near a corner sobbing, bloody hands pressed over her ears with the gun clutched in the left, and the corpse that used to be Robert Quistin was sprawled a few feet from her and leaking various bodily fluids. He was on his back, and the wounds appeared to be limited to the abaxial surface; the blood was settling instead of spreading. It could have been worse.

Owen had seen a lot of shit in his life, but this was one of the ugliest scenes he'd ever had the misfortune to witness. He was grateful there wasn't enough time for him to stare like the morbid part of him wanted to.

"NO!" It was Robert; he wasn't dead, wasn't killed, and now he was going to hurt her for trying to kill him! Kat's eyes snapped open at this thought, but he was still on the floor, unmoving. She stared at his body as if she'd never seen him before, completely entranced, when a soft voice spoke near her ear. "Kat?"

Her chest constricted and she choked on her tears, trying to pull away, but Owen's face came into view. Owen? She could have sworn it was Robert...

"Kat, honey, it's me, Owen," he repeated, and she dragged her eyes away from Robert long enough to look up at him. He was watching her carefully, as if she might do something, and at the same time she realized it was he who had his hands on her. Her gaze flicked to the pistol in her hand, then back to him, and she yanked her arm just as he tightened his grip.

"No, no, nonono," she begged. "Mine, I want... mine, I want Mode..." His fingers dug into the nerves of her wrist as she fought him, and she dropped the pistol involuntarily. He caught it easily, and threw it away, and Kat watched it longingly before throwing herself into Owen's arms.

He wavered a little unsteadily as she buried her face against his shoulder, but gently rubbed her back, and Kat instantly burst into tears again. She was crying brokenly, her hands clutching at his uniform, and he whispered soothing half-words as she bawled.

"He lied, he lied!" she mumbled, nearly incoherent. "He said... said they took Mode, they didn't, no one took Mode, he's here? Is... is he here, Owen? He lied to me... why? Did they?"

Owen hugged her tighter and she waited for him to deny it, waited for her life to start again.

"I'm sorry, Katera," he said quietly, and her stomach turned over. "He's gone. They did take him to Charybdis."

No... Mode...

She pulled out of his grasp and scooted backwards away from him, fear written clearly on her face, disbelief making her shake violently. "They didn't," she protested numbly, and when Owen nodded, Kat curled herself into a little ball, her head buried in her arms, and started screaming.

Confined to the room, her screams reverberated and made his head ring, and he dropped to his knees next to her. He had to be careful, so careful; if he pushed too hard, she'd snap, but if he didn't push hard enough, she wouldn't listen, and it was imperative that she listen. They were quickly running out of time. Someone would report the screaming if she kept it up, and he had no doubt that Vaisou would be checking his handiwork in the next hour.

He shook her, finally, and it was enough to get her attention, although she continued to keen. "Stop it. Kat, if you want to see him again you have to stop, right now. Now."

Her eyes filled with tears at the hope in his words, and she clung to him again, this time desperately trying to explain to him why this couldn't be true, why he must be mistaken. "He... he can't be in Charybdis, he can't," she told him, in a voice halfway between a sob and a screech. "If he goes back, they'll kill him, don't you see, they'll send him downstairs again and they can't, they can't kill him! Why... why didn't they take me, I can do it, I did it, Owen, but not him, not... not Mode..."

"Kat. Kat, listen to me! He's gone. But I told you, if you want to see him again, you have to listen to me." She loosened her deathgrip on his arms, dropped her hands into her lap and hung her head to stare at them as she dug her nails cruelly into her palms. Owen touched her hair lightly, and Kat watched her tears wash away the little pinpricks of blood.

I won't let you leave me without saying goodbye, Mode. Not again. I couldn't find you the last time, but this time... this time I won't just wait, because I know you can't come back unless I find you first.

She had nowhere to go, even if she'd wanted to leave. She had nowhere to stay, even if she'd wanted to remain here. Mode had been the only person to ever hold her to a place, to give her a home and a family and a life, and now he was gone. She had nothing.

...her family.

Jacks. He had to be somewhere. He had to be okay, or Owen would have said something. Robert hadn't really taken him away, and he was okay, and he was still hers. Kat's face brightened at the thought of her son, and she grabbed for Owen's sleeve, shook his arm and asked for him. "Where's Jacks? He... I'll take him with me. We can find Mode together. We ca--"

And so she resisted. She was Kitty Quistin. Owen didn't know about Charybdis, didn't know how she'd survived, killed, thrived in that place. He didn't know how many times she'd lost everything, how capable she was, how... how could she possibly leave her son?

"I can protect him," Kat tried to protest, but she knew she couldn't, no matter how many people she killed or what she did. "No, Kat, you can't," he told her. "You need to protect yourself, first, so you can get Nathan."

Mode...

She was silent for a long time, and he touched her arm gently until she looked up at him, pleading in her eyes. "Owen?" she asked quietly, and he met her gaze. "What is it, honey?"

"Will you..." It was so hard, asking for help, asking for someone else to protect and care for what she should have been able to keep safe, but there was nothing else she could do. He was right. She had no one, no family, no one to watch over Jacks... except for Owen. He was the only person they had. "Will you watch Jacks until... until I come back?"

He hugged her and she rested her forehead on his shoulder. "Of course I will, Kat. I'll keep him safe for you." Kat closed her eyes. "Thank you."

I'm sorry, Jacks. We wanted you to have a better life. We wanted you to be happy, to have everything we never had. Here, you'll be safe. You won't have us, but you won't have to fight for your life. You won't have to suffer, and I couldn't do it, tomcat. I couldn't put you through what we've gone through. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we couldn't give you the kind of life you deserved to have, but this way, at least you'll be safe. At least you'll be alive. And as long as you're alive, I can come back for you, and I will. I will come back.

"I'll come back for him, you know." Kat pulled away from Owen, wiped the last of the tears from her face and gathered herself together visibly, her shoulders straightening, the lines of her face hardening into resolve. "Once I have Mode, I'll come back for tomcat."

"I know, Kat. He'll be here for you."

"Let him know. Let him know what happened, that we... that we didn't want to leave. That I had to, to save Mode and to keep him safe."

"I will."

"Tell him..." her voice broke, and she looked away. "Tell tomcat we love him, and... that I'll come back."

After making sure she was relatively presentable, he locked both the bedroom door and the exterior door to her apartment and then escorted her to his own room and put her in civilian clothes. Tanya hadn't been back or spoken to him since the fight they'd had three weeks ago, and he doubted she'd miss one outfit. Tanya was tall, and the clothes didn't fit quite right, but they made it work, and twenty four minutes after they'd left her room he dropped her at the ship dock with a small satchel.

"There's no clothes in it," he said quietly to her as he hugged her goodbye, "but there's a towel and some money in the bottom." He embraced her gently for the benefit of the ship's mate. It wasn't an IF ship, just one of the few authorized traders, and he'd paid enough over the cost of her passage to make sure they wouldn't ask any questions, but appearances were always important.

And she was grateful. Owen didn't owe either of them anything. He wasn't concerned for his own sake, nor trying to take something from her in return. There was nothing for him to gain by helping her, but help her he did, and while Kat could not often understand such selfless assistance, she did appreciate it, and loved him for it.

He hugged her close and she hugged him back, tightly, trying to convey to him how much his gesture meant, how grateful she was for what he was doing. "We haven't ever had friends," she said awkwardly when he pulled away. "But... but I always thought Mode was right about you. He always said I could trust you." Kat paused and then hugged him again. "Thank you, Owen. I promise I'll come back."

Then, gripping the little bag in one hand, she turned and walked purposefully toward the transport. At the doorway she looked back over her shoulder and waved, and he waved back, and then Kat was gone.

Back to Earth. Back to find Mode.