Last chapter, guys. There's a longer Author's Note at the bottom. For the sake of my canon, Kitty's full name is Katherine.
Summary: McKinley High goes on lockdown with Marley and Kitty stuck in the choir room together. Karley.
Characters: Marley R. and Kitty
Rating: T
ONE YEAR LATER, EXACTLY
Marley was awakened by a loud, brusque tapping on her bedroom window and she clambered out of bed, rubbing her eyes. Kitty was standing out of her window, panic reflected in her features. "Marley," she mouthed, and Marley's jaw went slack. What was she doing here?
"Kitty," Marley said and opened her bedroom window, shivering as the cold air touched her skin.
"I couldn't sleep," Kitty said, her voice rough and full of tears. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she had obviously been crying. She climbed through the window and stood in her room, utterly broken and miserable. Pangs of pity shot through Marley's heart, and she walked forward and embraced the shorter girl, who clung to Marley as if desperate, crying.
"I keep on having these dreams," Kitty sobbed, and her breath came out harsh and ragged. "I-I can't, Marley."
"Shhh," Marley said gently and held onto Kitty, closing her eyes tightly, tears beginning to fall down her face. "Shh, Kitty, it's going to be alright."
"What if it isn't?" Kitty asked, and Marley felt her heart break at the question. "I-I just can't," Kitty said and abruptly let go of Marley, sinking down to the ground and burying her face in her hands.
Marley suddenly noticed the window was still open and closed it, sitting down next to Kitty. "I promise it'll be okay," she whispered.
"I just wish it could be," Kitty whispered back, staring straight ahead with a frightened expression on her face. "Sometimes, everything's okay, but then I-I remember that courtyard, or-or Jake," a fresh wave of tears overcame her, and she curled up miserably. "Everything comes flooding back and I-I just can't," she finished miserably in a harsh whisper.
Marley wrapped her arms around her, noticing that the girl was shaking. "We'll get over it, you and I. We'll get over it together."
Kitty didn't believe her. That much was obvious, but she remained silent, leaning against Marley and holding onto her as if she were her lifeline. Marley sighed and kissed the top of her forehead, closing her eyes as her lips came into contact with her skin. She seemed to be burning.
She pulled away and interlaced their fingers. Kitty's head dropped onto her shoulder, but Marley didn't mind. "I love you," she whispered, so quiet she could barely hear it.
"I love you too," Kitty whispered, so quietly it could have been the wind. Crouched next to her, Marley tried to convince herself it wasn't.
They stayed like that the entire night.
SEVERAL YEARS LATER
"That's, uh, quite the story you've got there," the plucky young newspaper reporter type fellow says and leans back the porch chair, crossing his legs.
"So I've been told," Marley Rose smiles mysteriously and laughs. "D'you want more tea?" She shifts her weight uncomfortably and motions vaguely to the teapot.
"Sure, sure," the man says and uncrosses his legs, the dark black of his business suit standing out dramatically against Marley's jeans and t-shirt. She pours him more tea, nearly cautious. Now that he thinks about it, she moves cautiously, as if she were afraid of something. He bites his lip. There are scars.
"Were you ever not sure that you were going to get out alive?" He asks before he can even stop himself, the words tumbling over his lips like a waterfall.
Marley freezes for a split second, her memories haunted by that fateful night in the choir room. "Only the entire time," she admits in a ragged whisper, her eyes seemingly far away. The man has the good sense not to respond and instead stares awkwardly at his teacup.
"So, what's this supposed to become?" Marley asks after she finishes pouring him tea. "Is it a book or something?"
"Oh, yes," the man says and waves vaguely with his hand through the air. "A documentary of sorts." He smiles, a sort of cocky, all-knowing smile.
"Right," Marley says, but she seems distracted and the man notices that she goes a bit stiff. "Interesting." She tries to smile but somehow fails, and the man bites his lip, not quite knowing how to react.
"Were you glad of the company you had at that time?" He asks and raises his eyebrows. No doubt he's heard the stories, Marley thinks, thinking of the countless articles written about the tragedy. Nearly every one of them mentions her in some way, Marley remembers bitterly, as the girl who shot her way out of school. I didn't do it for fun, she insists to herself.
"Glad?" Marley asks and she, too, raises her eyebrows. "It saved my life, if that's what you mean."
The man makes careful note of her statement on a pad, and for a moment, Marley is transported back to the first interview with the police man at the hospital, his pen scratching over an official-looking pad and documenting her words.
"I understand," the man says, as if the word is a key to her understanding and endless approval. No, you don't, Marley thinks with certain venom, biting her lip to keep from bursting the words out.
They stop talking for a split second. Marley begins to swing back on the porch swing, the creaking interrupting what would otherwise be an awkward silence. Her face is alight with sunlight and she is smiling lightly, biting her lip. Her legs dangle from the swing. She is like a child.
Suddenly, she clears her throat, and the man blinks a couple of times, his eyes going dry. His contacts are blurring, and he shakes his head lightly to try to produce tears. "How many people are you interviewing?" She asks, and when his vision is clear again, she is staring at him curiously.
"A few," he says and smiles, running a hand through his close-cropped blonde hair. "Mostly teachers and such."
Marley's heart thuds a few times as she remembers the horrific hours trapped in the choir room. "I see," she says lamely and looks at her watch. She's never gone anywhere without it ever since… that day. She can't handle not knowing what the time is, at all times. It's late, later than she thought it was. "Will you be interviewing me again sometime soon?" She tries to keep the edge of hope out of her voice. But it isn't hope she'll be seeing this man again, with his blue eyes that seem to cut into her soul and his needling questions.
The man obviously doesn't take it like that, and he leans forward slightly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I wasn't planning to," he confesses, and grins, leaning back and running his hand through his hair again. "But, if you want, we could get dinner?" He smiles and Marley smiles tightly in response, turning her face to the side.
"I'm engaged, actually," she says, exhaling, and the man's face turns a strange shade of red. She holds up her hand, the ring glinting in the sun and he curses himself for being an idiot and not noticing.
"Sorry," he stutters out, and Marley smiles a small smile.
"It's alright, really," she says and dismisses it with a casual wave of her hand. Of course it isn't, but she isn't going to tell him that.
"Sorry," he repeats, and the word seems to hang in some kind of lost netherworld.
Who? Marley can almost hear the unspoken word on his lips, in his throat. "She's coming home in a few minutes, if you'd like to meet her," she says, something, anything to break the silence.
"Sure," the man says, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
She checks her watch, the slight feeling of panic that she always gets whenever doesn't know the time fading away instantly. "Should be here soon," she says, and the man glances around nervously as if she's about to jump out and attack him.
Marley laughs lightly, and right on cue a car pulls up in the driveway, stopping. "There she is," Marley smiles, and the man stops momentarily to catch something he hadn't the first time. She?
The car door opens and a short blonde woman with long, flowing hair gets out, smiling. "I'm home," she calls, but stops when she sees him sitting on the porch, and her brow furrows in confusion.
The man turns his head and looks away briefly, and Marley and the blonde seemed to have a nonverbal exchange behind his back.
What is he doing here?
I don't know….something.
How long has he been here?
Not long.
Seems like a prick.
…
What?
Whatever. Be nice.
"It's nice to meet you," the man says, looking at something in the distance. When he turns back around, and he stands up and holds out a hand. "I'm Eric, Eric Saunders."
"Katherine Wilde," she says and smiles quickly, shaking his hand and sticking it back into her pocket.
"Katherine Wilde?" He asks, and she looks at him with a strange expression.
"That's me," she says with a hint of biting sarcasm, and Marley shoots her a look.
"Kitty?" He asks, and he almost can't believe it. She's stayed out of the media attention, keeping a low profile for the entire time. She's never given an official interview, but of course he knows who she is. She's one of the few who didn't get evacuated in the first two hours. She's one of the scarred ones.
She grimaces at hearing her old nickname spoken by the mouth of a complete stranger. "The one and only," she says, and this time, the biting sarcasm is much more than just a hint.
Something in his pocket beeps, and he pulls out his phone, checking it. "Ah, sorry, gotta run," he excuses himself, then briefly shakes Marley's hand again. "I'll keep in touch, Miss Rose." Then he's gone, his car roaring down the driveway and hopefully out of their lives.
"What was he here for?" Kitty asks a few minutes later, when they're sitting together on the porch swing, swinging steadily back and forth.
"He's writing a book," Marley says through her teeth, grimacing. "As if there hasn't been enough media attention already."
Kitty doesn't even need to ask what the book is about. Their lives have been a disturbing mixture of the downright normal and the downright terrifying. "He was such a prick," she says moodily, leaning her head on Marley's shoulder and closing her eyes.
"He was, kind of," Marley confesses and laughs nervously. "He asked me out."
Kitty's eyes fly open and she stares ahead with a troubled expression. "What'd you say?" She asks, trying to keep her tone of panic down.
"I told him I was engaged," Marley says pointedly, and Kitty noticeably relaxes. "What'd you think I said?" She asks, but it's a rhetorical question that isn't asking for an answer and they both know it.
"I know," Kitty says, and they stay silent for a few seconds, but it's a comfortable, relaxed silence. "I just…. I don't want there to be a book."
"I don't blame you," Marley scoffs and brushes a strand of hair away from her eyes. "I don't, either. You know it'll just be worse…" her voice trails off as she remembers the one-year anniversary. It was terrible.
"God, I hate the publicity," Kitty mutters and Marley chuckles.
"Don't we all," she mutters darkly and gets up, holding her hand out to Kitty, who takes it and grasps it firmly. "I love you," she says and smiles brightly, something akin to fire burning in her eyes.
Kitty stands up and kisses Marley, smiling. "I love you too," she whispers after she pulls away.
And this time, Marley is sure it's not the wind.
Fin.
Thank you guys so, so much. I honestly couldn't have finished this without your support and lovely reviews. Thank you so much.
I'm still on the fence about whether I'll write a sequel or not, but it's most certainly a possibility.
That's really all there is to say. Thanks, again.
I'm definitely going to write more, but I want to write some Les Miserables stuff first. I hope you'll forgive me.
Yours, LeSlytherinPhoenix