Disclaimer: I do not own The Red Road.
A/N: This is semi-AU of S2 (mostly because only one episode has aired). Phillip did not cause trouble with the guys at the paving company, and Mac has not been murdered.
When Kate stepped out of the rain and into the warmth of the house, she could just hear the furious whispers that more often than not signaled that Rachel had gotten up to something. Kicking off her shoes Kate placed them side by side on the mud tray. Glancing back out the door, Kate couldn't help the soft smile that inched across her face as she watched a dark truck started off down the road.
"Kate," Jean's voice called, "is that you?"
Kate's hands flew into her hair, swiping and smoothing her hair into a tight bun, an attempt to conceal its dampness. Hands smoothed down her camisole, fixing it down where it had ridden up exposing the creamy skin of her hips.
Padding down the hall, Kate took several calming breaths before speaking, "Yeah."
Stepping into the kitchen Kate was faced with both parents sitting at the table, coffee cups and phones scattered across the scarred wood. Their faces were tight, muscles pulling stiffly around the jaw. Kate waited, frozen in the doorway.
"Where have you been," her mother's voice was thin, reminiscent of days and nights where Jean had been strung-out and pissed-off at Rachel. "I woke up and you weren't here."
Harold reached across the table and settled a hand on his wife's, a clear effort in restraining her. Jean jerked away from the touch, "No, you don't understand, she doesn't understand what it's like to check on your daughters and find one of them missing! I've already done this with Rachel. I am not doing this again!"
"Okay," Harold spoke softly, as though to a child, "Yelling isn't going to solve anything. We need to listen to Kate."
"Okay," Jean inhaled, voice sharper than natural, "I'm listening."
Kate didn't miss the forced patience, the deliberate pronoun change. Blinking slowly, eyes wide, the petite girl parted her mouth and spoke in her ever-small voice, "I'm sorry, I got up early to go to the library, I forgot to leave a note."
Harold let out a deep sigh, "See, she's fine."
"It's not fine," Jean's hands curled into tight fists before relaxing, "I called your phone, repeatedly."
"The stacks in the basement don't have very good cell service, I'm sorry," dropping her eyes to the ground, Kate shifted uncomfortably.
Harold pushed back from the table and flashed Kate a smile as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her firmly against his chest, face buried in her hair. "it's okay sweetie, we were just worried."
Kate didn't wrap her arms around her father. The embrace didn't feel like it used to. Kate had always been a daddy's girl. Where Rachel had taken after her mother, latching onto her like a duck, Kate had sought attention from her father. It had likely started a few years after Kate was born. Jean had fallen headfirst into the bottle. And in denial, Harold had clung to his perfect baby-girl.
As the years went on and Jean got worse and Kate grew up, things changed. Their relationship had changed; Kate had stepped into Jean's shoes. She had started to pick up the slack, cooking, cleaning, and generally making sure everything was okay. It was always about making sure that the pretense of a normal family never shattered, that Harold saw Kate, loved her like Jean had never made the effort to.
The events of the year before had taken the rose colored glasses from her eyes, Phillip had made everything clear. Kate had begun to realize, with each passing day after the incident, that her parents barely noticed she existed. Kate was certain that at times they honestly forgot she existed, sometimes she would come home from tutoring and they would be gone, at dinner or the movies, family night.
Meeting Phillip had opened Kate's eyes. His questions had touched on dark thoughts that Kate had always pushed down. Kate was the forgotten child. So long as she was the perfect child, Harold and Jean Jensen, at times, forgot they had a second child. Kate had actually relished the attention her father had given her when Jean had hit the bottom. When Jean pushed Harold away, Kate had been there. She had been the focus of her father's attention, often cuddling up with him and watching TV or talking about the day. Giving to her what Jean rejected.
The heavy breath against her neck, the clawing fingers in her hair, Kate had savored the closeness, the drowning affection. But that was before Phillip. Phillip had been right. Kate had never been up the mountain. She had rarely gone anywhere or done anything without someone holding her hand. Kate had always walked within the lines, she had been the good daughter, she had never asked why, she had just done. The heavy warmth of affection which had once been welcome had become tainted. It had become cloying, sickly sweet, restrictive.
The pedestal Kate had put her father on had been thoroughly smashed by Phillip. When Harold had come home that afternoon and looked at her like she was his sanity, Kate knew he didn't want to hear what she thought. He wanted a doting daughter who would tell him he was loved, that he was right, that he was strong.
In the year since the whole affair, Kate had fallen back into obscurity. All of Harold and Jean's focus had gone into Rachel. Kate knew her parents loved her, knew that they weren't simply ignoring her. Harold and Jean had focused on fixing Rachel so they wouldn't have to focus on their own relationship. It had worked. Rachel had actually managed to focus enough to start applying for colleges.
Gritting her teeth, Kate pulled away slightly, attempting to escape the arms curled around her, choking her. When Harold finally pulled away he held Kate's face, stroking her cheeks fondly. Kate was immediately reminded of how tender and delicate Phillip's hand had felt against her skin. Harold's lips against her forehead were rough and pressing. Swallowing, Kate stepped back as Jean stood up, chair scraping against the floor.
"It is not okay," Jean exhaled sharply. "Kate, you're grounded."
Harold turned to his wife, frowning, "No, Jean, calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down," Jean's eyes rolled back in exasperation as her arms lifted in irritation. She was done being told to calm down.
Tongue tracing over his teeth, Harold sighed, hands landing on his hips, a reflex of being a cop. "Hey, Kate is a good girl. I was worried too, worried sick, but Kate is fine. She made a mistake and she's sorry, next time she can wake me up and I'll drive her."
Jean shook her head slightly, turned and stormed out of the room, tossing both Harold and Kate a dirty look as she went.
"Hey, Katie," Harold turned back to her, looking at how delicate she seemed curled in on herself. He stepped in to her, "Hey, sweetheart, ignore your mom, she was just worried. I was too, Kate, it's not safe out there." His arms curled around her again, squeezing tightly as he sighed.
"I'm fine."
"I know," Harold sighed, one hand teasing the nape of Kate's neck, "But it isn't safe, I was so worried, Kate."
Inhaling, Kate's teeth settled around a piece of her cheek, biting down to keep her body still. "I'm sorry," she whispered after a moment, "I just wanted to return my books. I got distracted, and the storm was so bad I couldn't leave."
Eyes closed in relief, Harold held his baby-girl, "I know, baby. I would have driven you. Next time, anytime, you can wake me up and I'll take you wherever you need to go. Anytime."
Keeping her shoulders relaxed, Kate nodded, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Harold breathed against Kate's hair, "You're okay." After a moment the cop released Kate hands rubbing up and down her bare arms, "Don't worry about your mom. Go dry off. I don't want you getting sick."
When Kate slipped upstairs and into the bedroom she shared with Rachel, she was confronted with a sly smirk and a giggle.
"What have you been up to," the salacious curl of Rachel's words had Kate on guard.
Turning to her closet Kate picked up her robe and some clean clothes, "Nothing."
"Yeah, right" the older girl snorted in disbelief as she sat amongst her schoolwork on her bed. "So, who is he?"
"No one," a pink tinge seeped through Kate's cheeks, "I was at the library."
"Mhm," the taller girl hummed, "On a Saturday morning? I know you are a smarty-pants, but even you don't spend Saturday mornings at the library. Just because mom and dad are too wrapped up in their own problems and me to see it, I'm not." Closing her textbook, Rachel bounced off her bed, "So, is he cute?"
Kate ignored her sister's questions, not willing to let her tongue betray her thoughts.
The water scalded, pouring down in sheets that warmed her to the bone unlike the icy rain. Despite the heat and steam, gooseflesh rippled across Kate's body. As her hands drifted across her curves, fingers sliding along taut, soft, flesh Kate couldn't help but think about how Phillip had watched her. The almost bashful way he peered at her indirectly, refusing to stare until she drew his attention directly.
Eyes drifting closed as she turned her face into the water, Kate saw his eyes. Hazel with flecks of gold, eyelashes slightly clumped from the rain. He had looked so different from the last time they had met. Not physically, but something about his nature had been different. Physically he was much the same. He crowded Kate, dwarfing her in every way. The only thing that was different was his hair. It was with some amusement that Kate wondered what his longer hair would feel like as it slipped through her fingers. Even in the rain it looked soft, silken.
Inhaling deeply, Kate was back in the truck, and instead of the soft flowery smell of soap she smelled the intense musk and woodsy smell that was pure Phillip. He smelled like heat, and it made Kate's body ache with hunger, she wanted to breathe him in, bury her nose against his neck, in his hair and feed on his scent.
Kate laid in bed that night one hand against her heart and the other against her neck where Phillip's hand had lain. It had been a strange day. Even though Kate knew Phillip was back in town, she hadn't expected to see him again. The very last thing she had expected was for him to come running up to her in the pouring rain and settle his hand on her back protectively.
Phillip had confessed things to her that they both knew could put him in prison, possibly for life. For weeks and months after he had crouched in front of her and spilled everything, Kate had been terrified that someone would come after her, him, the Albanians, anyone. She hadn't admitted to anyone what happened. As far as Harold was concerned, Phillip had just broken, scared her and taken a drawing. Everything else was a secret. Kate was certain Phillip hadn't said anything; he wouldn't be walking around if he had.
The more Kate thought about that afternoon, the more she knew…the more she trusted that Phillip would never have hurt her. The moment his hand had settled on her back in the rain Kate had felt warmth flood her body. Just thinking about the morning had Kate's heart racing. It shouldn't have. Kate knew that. But it did. Kate should have gone running the moment he looked at her. She should have jerked away from his touch.
Everything had changed.
Sitting against the wall, Phillip stared at the tarp covered ceiling. It was drizzling again, the sky clearly not through with its upheaval. Phillip didn't mind, he had never minded the rain. It washed everything away. It drowned out the fighting and the whispers. Eyes closing, Phillip curled his arms into his chest, bringing the crumpled sweatshirt to his face.
No, Phillip considered, he was begging to come around to rain. The rain had brought him Kate. It had given Phillip a chance to see her again, without subterfuge or lies. Smiling into the sweatshirt, Phillip breathed deeply, dragging the soft smell of honey into his lungs. Breath after breath had Phillip fading off to sleep, the sound of Kate's soft words in his ears and the bright flash of her smile drifting behind his eyes.
Even after a year nothing had changed, she was still Kate.
A/N: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, glad you like this so far! I wrote my first draft of this chapter last Thursday (before I saw the episode), then I spent tonight revising because I had spent the weekend feeling unsettled about how Harold, Jean, and Rachel came off. Suffice to say I am a lot happier with this draft, and included a few hints to help illuminate Kate's absence thus far in the new season. Well, hope you enjoyed and drop me a line, Ta!