A/N: Kate's thoughts may confuse many of you- especially if you are not familiar with drug usage. No matter, it will come together.

Chapter 10:

Philippians 3:2

There was a stench of smoke and an abrupt pain that seared into the side of Kate's left thigh. Seth had put his cigarette out on her flesh, the long ember taking its time to extinguish. She barely moved. He scooped up both of her legs from under the knee and threw them back on the bed before crossing the room and leaning against the wall. She wasn't going anywhere but he was going to make her scream. Besides, he wanted some mood music.

Kate's tricky mind gave her the feeling she was back at the Dew Drop Inn. Richie had seen her there, exposed: hurting and fearful. Seth was rabid, performing for himself, like a ballerina locking eyes with their reflection. Seth could dance, Kate thought to herself.

"There's so much to do and plenty of time. But I promise: you're going to know what it's like to be fucked. What it's like to have a man inside you. Not just any man though—the Big Bad, you're daddy warned you about-Revelations. You're going to hate how much you love it."

Seth was the escaped shadow of a school girl crush she'd long forgotten about. Fragmented images of Seth scattered through her mind. The foolish girl she once was had millions of snapshots of Seth. His laugh—his real laugh; the one he let out when he wasn't anyone but himself. The endearing aftershock of chuckling that followed. He'd catch his breath later, order another round of drinks and hide a smile behind his. His blushing face—skin that looked so warm and anxious but his smile was resting cheerfully. It was poised and genuine, and warm in a poised smile. Hollywood-like, serious with intent but not with himself, his smile aligned the way his hands danced freely as he spoke with them for emphasis.

There had been something there once. Not love, no—never love, but a kinship. There had been trust. A mutual agreement, at the very least. As the tender images of Seth were forced from her mind, distorted into scary caricatures, so went the reel of moments that told of every decline in their bond.

Kate's lips were numbing, and tongue was bored. She had a strange wanting to scream or use her elbows for something. She wanted to move freely. Her skin was too tight. She wanted to cry. She wanted physicality. Her teeth felt disenfranchised with nothing to bite. Every second of restraint gave way to her defenses and care. Her tongue wanted to move and play. The room was cranky. It needed more little lights. She wanted to smash the walls with her fists; she wanted to them to crumble like a sand castle Scott used to live in. She wanted her bones to bleed like stabbing knives.

Where was her father- his prayers and comfort she needed so terribly. There was no love in this place. There was love nowhere. She wasn't anyone anymore. No ties, connections or family to anchor her faith. Her prayers were jumbled and knotted in her brain. She felt weak with bouts of elation. False bravery and disorientation, and her big mouth had gotten her in deeper shit—who had she becoming?

Kate lay still but her toes curled. There was a euphoria building and a fury that made her want to get rough and purged of the pain she had inside. She wanted more. Her body writhed from within but not in the way she wanted. She moved her shoulders in a slow roll against the cruddy mattress. They felt new to her. She reached down to the fresh burn on her thigh and dug into it with a breathy exhale.

What had he done to her? She wanted to feel something; something real, not what was bracing and in riddles. Something wasn't right. She needed the cowboy to get her off that bed. The voice taunted her hijacked senses. "I can do so much more for you." A rogue hand clasped her by the jaw, it bullied her flushed face to look forward. Her resistance was futile. Tingles of movement from her face to the back of head distracted from the fingers wrapping themselves in her hair. He yanked her backwards and her throat shot up to face the ceiling. It was a violent for the sake of violence. Somewhere laughed. She was only a ragdoll, after all. "Later I'll do more to you."

Kate felt the warmth of the hand cradling her head, and it was the closest thing to okay she'd known in months. She smiled and the room went silent.

Christmas lights- they had to be authentic Christmas. If they were color changing, the room would be happier to stop all that sad racket. It was stuck in her head now, like soap in her eyes. She saw in perfect smell, the kitchen dancing and remembered every word. She could cry along if she wanted but the last time she blinked and her parents had already finished the show. Where had this mind-river been hiding? Everything was a gem; seamless and coded to her. She spun her own language and was itchy on the inside like static. Seth continued to rattle on: puppet pulling his own strings because everyone else went to away from her. Kate's inside-insides were crying the angriest rains and still, someone drained the pool. She couldn't prove who because her glasses were gone.

"I know you've thought about this. What it would be like… It's natural and nothing to be ashamed about. You've wanted it for so long. To be touched, to make the madness stop. I can fill the emptiness—I can make you feel whole. Maybe you didn't know what it was you craved but I did. Let me show you." His fingers trailed upward with steadfast patience. "You'll want to be whole at least once." Seth had grown furious with the silence when he knew her mind was so far away. Not even the taunt of his intentions stirred her. She had to be won—she had to make herself the whore. His patience was wearing thin but you can't rush art.

"Katie…" Lips swept across with gentle modesty. Her name drifted down her neck in a humble whisper. It sounded foreign or incomplete without the vulgarity of a pet name smirking. She heard a breath of air exhale with defeated sentimentality. It was the exhale of that could not utter all that needed to be said.

"Kate, please…" The impossible silk of long-lost severity beckoned Kate dreamily. The absolute clarity was a melding of politician-precision eloquence and a timid outcast—unapologetic and unarmed. He regarded her with a coolness of reserved understanding and depth. The unspoken respect remained unspoken. The taste of hope lingered with cruel nostalgia. She shifted away from Seth's persuasive lying. She knew her undoing would be in having to look into either brother's eyes.

"I know you feel it; I know you feel everything." Richie's voice remained, hiding Seth's intentions. "I want you to feel me too." Course fingers dragged down her thigh and circle at her knee. Her skin felt like glitter and velvet. Everything he said made sense because she could understand nothing. There was only touch and a haze of dreamlike musings.

"I want to cum inside you-" The possessive body weighting against her dying struggle smelled like Seth, felt like Seth and moved like Seth but the lack of calamity in his tone was Richie. She pictured him in her mind, remembering his strangeness, and his predatory distance that lured her farther from herself. The fixation in her mouth was just too distracting and frankly dishonest with that true world. She couldn't take suits seriously, it wasn't Sunday even… Why didn't Seth just go already- his funeral started decades ago!

"You don't have to be shy." Seth had begun to wrestle with his own rising torment. "There's no one else here. It's just you and me. It'll always be that way, Kate." Seth could feel his own tension heightening. Her silence left him wounded but admittedly, he had been rather forward. Seth wanted Kate's approval, now feeling inadequate. He should not have brought up Richie. Seth just wanted to hear her voice lose itself to his pharmaceuticals. He wanted to know her every thought. He wanted her to relax. He wanted her body to feel everything and he wanted to feel her under him when she did. He hoped it would kill her.

"Let me in." Richie's voice trickled a longing for compliance down her bizarre consciousness. "It's better this way. No one can accuse you of being weak- you fought too. I've fought hard too, you know. No one would blame you." Richie was right. Even if it wasn't Richie—

Seth pulled himself out of the tangle Kate's struggle had required. He rolled on his back, one hand tightening around her hair. Kate inhaled heavily and her eyes shot open. She was less disoriented with her vision not fixed on eyelid slideshows. "I'm surprised nothing happened sooner. We both wanted it. Maybe you didn't even know what it was you wanted exactly, but your body still craved it."

The music began playing; it had come with such delay. It was not the song she heard from the bathroom. "Just call me Angel…" Kate mumbled to Seth's surprise.
"There is no endearment more befitting."

"of the morning Angel—just touch my cheek—" Seth obeyed, caressing her cheek and sliding his hand under her top, slyly attempting to pull it off.

"—before you leave me." Seth halted. He watched Kate absentmindedly sing. She was hoarse but it was still sweet and a pang of guilt slugged him in the gut. As if, he had been reminded of who he was and what he was doing. His tattoo was burning under his skin: snapping him back into the morning. "Mama—" a tear slid down Kate's cheek once more. She knew the song because her mother would sing it to her. Her father would grab hold of her waist and twirl her in the kitchen and Kate would watch lovingly.

Seth glared back at the speakers. They played no such song, nor did he remember it playing the once Kate sang. Kate lifted her hand and ran her fingertips down Seth's lips as her turned back to face her. He was shocked. Her eyes were dilated, blurring but fixed on Seth.

"It's been eating me alive—painfully—for so long. You don't want to hurt me, do you?" Kate didn't know what hurt was anymore.
"Where are your glasses?" She asked childlike. Seth was enraged. Kate knew he was not Richie, but she was beginning to see more than what she had before.

"Look out for the dogs, look out for the evildoers, look out for those who mutilate the flesh." She spoke with an eerie clarity.

Hurdy Gurdy Man by Donovan began playing, just as a cruel fist mad impact with her face.

Kate had been forsaken since that day by the pool, where a strange, despicable man threaded himself into her soul.

At last, an advantage.

SONG LIST

"Angel of the Morning" by: Juice Newton
"Hurdy Gurdy Man" by: Donovan