Because I couldn't resist. I don't think it answers anything really, I just write because I enjoy it. It answers everything if you are asking the right questions, lets say.

Disclaimer: I do not own Cruel Intentions. Lyrics belong to the local band, 'Eliott'

- - - - -

Red laced fears

Salt kissed tears

She stayed to linger on.

Because she said to me, sent to me.

We can never lose

'Kathryn's in rehab.' Sebastian said suddenly, ruining the silence of a sunshine showered picnic.

Annette lazily opened one eye. 'For what?'

He raised an eyebrow.

The picnic was classical; white and blue checkered cloth, a taupe woven basket, sandwiches and a clear sky.

Annette blanched. 'You're joking. She knows better than to do something as stupid as narcotics!'

Sebastian half smiled as he spoke. 'She hasn't been that smart in a long time Annette.'

She sat up, pushing her back against the tree to support her.

'Oh.'

--

Long tan fingers tap my left shoulder. Carefully, elegantly, I tilt my head, blonde locks dancing down my shoulders, and nod.

Holding my hand out she takes it. Intertwining our fingers, and pulls me upward, till our lips meet in a sound kiss.

Softly, so very softly as we part, I stumble, and she caught me as she has done so many times before.

--

It was later, she didn't know how much later, but that didn't matter.

This was messed up. How could she have been so foolish? Maybe, maybe it wasn't her fault; Kathryn fooled everyone, she wasn't special.

But Annette had thought she was.

Annette was angry with Kathryn.

--

Everything was dark.

She saw the obsessive cleanliness, the seemingly tightly controlled atmosphere of her room. She was caught, and through her calm and collected exterior dark emotions were raging war against her conscience.

It's pushed together, crammed, all these words all these feelings all these memories and all of everything in a tiny frame.

Looking upwards at the black square clock on the wall, seven thirty, Kathryn sighed. She stood and shook her head, as if trying to secure her mind inside her skull, but only succeeded in rattling it more.

Clutching her small hand to her chest Kathryn closed her eyes; letting tears slip casually from beneath her eyelids, and feeling the thin jagged path they drew as they softly descended down her pale face.

She felt the loss, the total utter and complete loss. She had no control, couldn't prevent it, and she just couldn't make herself move forward.

She couldn't overcome just this.

--

Light blue pumps clack clack clacked against the smooth stone walkways. The pumps led to stocking clad legs and a matching sky colored dress.

She'd dressed up for this meeting.

Annette nodded gratefully to the boy who held open the door, smiled serenely at the woman standing behind the counter in the lobby in this fine institution.

We're starving.

'If I might have the room number of one Kathryn Mertuil please?' She took her sunhat off her head, holding it between her hands as Annette waited for her reply.

'Yes,' The attendant fingers flew across the keyboard; seconds later: 'yes, Kathryn Mertuil, she is staying here, who are you? And why are you visiting?'

Annette sighed. 'Annette Hargrove, I attend Manchester with her.'

'ID please?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Of course.'

--

Nothing's wrong with her. Thank God.

These halls, these hallways were hell.

She didn't bother knocking.

Sterile white, bottomless walls.

What she'd been looking for was on the bed. The brunette was reading, eyes darting across the pages, she tilted her head and looked up at Annette without expression, her hair curtaining her face.

Closing the door behind her, Annette took the most imposing stance she could managed.

'How long?'

'How long what?' Kathryn drawled, unmoving.

-as if they weren't in a rehabilitation centre, as if nothing, nothing was wrong at all.

'How long have you been this way? Cold fooling everyone you can? You're not perfect! This proves it more than anything, anything else ever could!'

She stiffens.

'So you obsess with men! Anyone you flaunt yourself at, you need them to make you feel pretty, to make you something. You're weak, you can't stand to be all by yourself. You depend on something unreal, something that might be there forever, outlasting even you? Kathryn, how could you let this happen? You'd die and then you'd disappear. '

Annette continues; stripping Kathryn in an entirely new way.

Kathryn stood.

'I am not weak.' She's losing her precious -so precious- composure. 'I'm not weak! Not like that, strong me. Kathryn.'

Sad words, little girl.

Annette glared in anger. 'You still haven't answered'

Kathryn's knees buckled and she balanced hands and knees resting on the ground.

'Years.' She whispered in water, pieces of Kathryn fall in those tears crashing down that haunted gaunt face.

It happened so fast.

The little blonde felt guilt.

She leant down, and pulled the tear choking doll into her arms.

Holding.

--

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