Chapter 10
Three months before the fight.
Friday night
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-Part 1-
Kit responded without hesitation before he remorselessly slammed and locked the door, "My only regret is not hitting you harder with my bat!".
Kit started to feel the excessive force his arm had thrust into the door almost immediately in his shoulder. The echo of the door rattled throughout the entire structure of the wooden building; the snapping sound of the deadbolt turning over to the locked position put an end to the night's madness like a judge's gavel proclaiming the final verdict of a case. All that was left now was to deal with the fallout. Molly was still crying and holding herself on the floor where Kit had been when she had crawled behind him after breaking free of her mother's grasp. She watched fearfully as Kit stood facing the door for a moment before he started to kick and beat it with his fists in a fit of chaotic unaimed infuriation before he turned and leaned his back against it, releasing his breath with relief as he slowly slid down to the ground to sit, allowing his head to lean back against the door once he had landed thankful the pane glass within it had not even cracked under his assault. She saw the tiny trail of blood on the right side of his mouth from where her mother had mercilessly slapped him. He had licked the wound a couple times and it was starting to fade, the wound itself was slightly larger than a pinprick; luckily none of his teeth looked to have been knocked loose. Molly jumped startlingly when they heard their mom yelling at someone outside before silence finally fell upon Higher for Hire. She watched Kit only turn his head to the window on his right in response to the disturbance as if to say, "What? Round two?" before leaning his head back against the door. Though she didn't know it, Molly had no real way of knowing or understanding that Kit's life of adversity had hardened his will to iron whereas most children would have crumbled under such circumstances. Suffice to say that there wasn't much out there that could shock, startle, or stall him.
Molly didn't understand why Kit closed his eyes when she couldn't help but keep her's forced open. She had no idea how angry he was or how much the seed of hate was starting to take root once more within him now that their mother, or her mother at least, was no longer treating Kit the way to which he had become accustomed since he had been living here. She was also unaware that this was the first time he had actually been alone – or in the absence of at least one other adult with the exception of the bathroom at school or in Ms. Cunningham's apartment – in over a week and although it wasn't for very long, the fact that he was in a place that he considered home allowed him the ability to mentally unload, even if in part. She watched him sit in the quiet, the ringing of silence in their ears was only to be broken by the sound of her own tenuous pout-breathing and the pulsing heartbeat in her ears. She felt alone, abandoned; a first for her. Her father had left her before she had known the world and for the first four years of her life she had always been at her mother's side. Only in recent months – about the time Kit came along for that matter – had she been apart from her, her absence filled by some other caregiver, be it Baloo, Kit, on occasion Wildcat, or some other hired sitter. But this evening was different. Tonight, her mother had left her, though in all fairness she had asked for it and Kit had supported it. And now, she felt she was alone even if Kit was directly across from her. She looked upon him and felt a bizarre mix of fear and love. The love she felt was new and different. Though it was the immature love a child displays to someone older because they depend upon them for sustenance, it was still a new feeling of love nonetheless which had not been there before this evening, or had it? She remembered when she sat with him and held his hand and leaned her head on his shoulder on the dock just a fortnight past. Still, even given this, she still felt scared, vulnerable. Kit was angry and she had both seen and personally experienced what Kit was capable of when he let the rage flow though his veins, but she did not want to be alone, not now, and so she decided what she was afraid of more, being with Kit, or being away from him.
Molly turned over and crawled slowly to Kit as quietly as possible and leaned against him as if trying to be as close to him as possible without touching him in a futile effort to not disturb him. She knew Kit had opened his eyes when she had cuddled up next to him; she felt his hateful gaze. She dared not look at him. Was he mad? Was he mad at her? She didn't know if she was still shaking from the excitement of her panic still continuing to fade from her body, if she was shaking because she was nervous about what Kit would do or say, or if she was shivering from the cold, or all three. Would he hit her? Would he throw her across the room? Would he open the door and kick her out? This was after all his home, not hers. Her thoughts ran away in her mind and then she ran cold when she thought of his reaction to seeing her wet shame. She imagined Kit pointing and laughing at her, calling her names. She considered that he might spank her or make her walk outside for everyone to see. "Oh, why didn't I hold it?" The area on her jumper where she had wet herself now felt like ice against her whenever she moved and it was unpleasantly sticking to her but she positioned herself in such a way so as to hide it from Kit's view. Just then Kit put his warm arm around her, and her insecurities were forgotten in an instant, she started to feel safe; still, she kept her shame hidden from him as best she could. Together they sat there until their bellies both began to break the silence.
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Kit looked down to his side the moment Molly leaned against him and smiled lovingly before placing his arm around her. They both sat there for a time but eventually hunger refused further tolerance of their inaction and so to the kitchen he went. Kit had babysat Molly before but not any more than during the daytime while Ms. Cunningham was away on some business. Before she would leave and often before Kit's arrival as she nearly never left Molly to her own devices, she would usually have already awoken, dressed, and fed Molly breakfast. Lunch was always prepared for them both and was left either sitting in the fridge or on the cold stove. And Ms. Cunningham was always back before dinner, bath, and bedtime when he would go home and join Baloo for their own dinner which was always a mysterious surprise. Now, Kit found himself in the position of being responsible for cooking dinner for them both and he couldn't think of a time in which he had had to even use the kitchen at Higher for Hire. If Kit wasn't in school or otherwise occupied, he would go with Baloo on his delivery and if he came home that day Ms. Cunningham would make dinner there for him before she left; and Baloo of course. He was looking back and forth between what little was in the refrigerator and the pantry. He and Baloo usually went to the grocery store on Fridays once he got home from school and Baloo had returned from his delivery that day; something about "a good start to enjoying the weekend". Kit was only now rediscovering the concept of 'the weekend'. Living on the streets and onboard the Iron Vulture, the chores of a Sunday were the same needs on a Wednesday, every day might as well have been Monday. And as it just so happened, Baloo had been transported to the hospital hours before everything was to be restocked. Since returning from Calisota Ms. Cunningham had only bought the absolute minimum for the business since no one was living there at the moment, or so she believed, so the food stocks were double depleted if even present at all. Kit continued to examine each area where food could be stored before lowering his standards and repeating the process before finally settling on one egg, a half a banana, and a slice of peanut butter toast for each of them. He became distracted from his rancorous feelings toward Ms. Cunningham when he went into work mode in the kitchen, focusing on what he was doing and not much else. Frying pans and utensils were flying this way and that. He was hungry and he was sure Molly was too, but his real motivation and excitement came from the fact that there were no adults around! He and Molly could do what they wanted until the sun came up without parental disruption and certainly without anyone reading from the "Cloudkicker Rulebook"! And while he would do anything to have Papa Bear back home with him right now, that did not take away from the current cards that fate had dealt them.
It didn't take him any more than five minutes to prepare everything and when he had about finished his heart slightly dropped as he suddenly became aware of just how quiet it was and the natural conclusion and assumption that Molly was getting into some kind of trouble. "Oh no, what now? Where is that girl?" he wondered. With plates in hand, he called her to come eat.
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When both their bellies had announced their hunger Kit had stood up without a word and had made his way to the Kitchen, disappearing through the door. Molly didn't know what to do, he had left without a word. She remained sitting against the front door that now bore the marks from Kit's recent assault in the living room for a few minutes after he had left her there. She didn't want to be alone, but she didn't want him to see her and what she had done either. Eventually, the battle between the desire for company and the desire for invisibility had shifted with the soldiers of her mind taking the field for company even as insurgents for invisibility poked at the apparent victors with guerrilla tactics, refusing surrender or defeat. After some hesitation she entered the kitchen as stealthily as she could and positioned herself as far from sight as possible so as to not invite Kit's ire upon her.
As soon as she entered the pleasant aroma of scrambled eggs and melted peanut butter entered her nostrils. The pleasure she felt in her nose was suddenly shattered by the sound she had been dreading to hear invading her ears.
"Molly! Dinner!" Kit called out before giving pause when he noticed that Molly was just standing in the corner facing the wall, with her back to him.
Molly felt Kit's eyes on her back, and she started to allow fear to fill her heart all over again. She wanted to run, but where would she go? If she ran, then he would know that something was wrong. Still, she didn't want to be alone, but what would he say once he saw her? What would anyone think? She would be in trouble. He would become angry with her. He would think that she was a baby without a bottle in need of a new diaper. He would slap her like her mother had slapped him. He would stick his nose up at her, and then he wouldn't want to be friends with her or play with her anymore. She couldn't run and she couldn't hide, so she just stood there counting down the seconds and facing the wall with her arms at her side and her head down.
"Molly, are you ok?" Kit set their dinner on the table before walking closer to her, he could tell by the way she was standing that something was the matter. "Molly, why won't you answer me?" Kit heard Molly start to whimper and placed his hand on her shoulder and she turned around. Immediately Kit saw the problem and decided to ignore it. If he didn't care, then maybe she wouldn't either. "Come eat before it gets cold."
All Molly could do was wonder. Did he not see it? It was plain as day; she might as well have a pacifier in her mouth. She continued looking at the floor, "You're not mad?" her innocence painted upon her words as they entered his ears.
"Why would I be?" Kit's forgiving and carefree tone was as warm as the thickest winter coat.
"I had an…ac-ci-dent…" Molly's hands were brought up to her chest, clearly, she was ashamed and embarrassed as she softly spoke.
"I see that." Kit pointed out with a grin. "So, you peed your pants" Kit shrugged, "it happens. Let's eat dinner, and then we can take care of it. Ok?" Kit had only told her the truth. Though the last time he did that to a Cunningham he suffered the back of her hand for it. He noticed that that seemed to happen a lot. In his experience, adults didn't like the truth. Ms. Cunningham, Baloo, Daring Dan, Don Karnage especially, folks back at his orphanage, whenever he told the truth to an adult, that adult had typically left their mark upon him, or had tried. But when he had told them the truth it had almost always yielded an improvement in his life. This time he was talking to a child and though he was sure the reception would be much different, chiefly in that he did not expect Molly to attack him, he knew the outcome would be the same; an improvement in the form of dry clothes, for Molly at least anyway. He had seen enough to know that in life things happen and the only thing to do is to take care of those things and move forward. He had also learned fast and young that liars are eventually consumed by the lies they tell. His mind immediately jumped to Larry back at the Freeport Orphanage. Why, if it hadn't been for Larry, Kit might not have ever had reason to flee the Freeport Orphanage in the first place and he would not have gone through such hard times on the streets, among other things. Then again, if Larry hadn't pulled his stunt, then Kit wouldn't have ever met Baloo either and most likely he would have never been adopted by anyone; wanted by anyone; loved by anyone. He was already nine years old at the time he ran away from Freeport and if Kit was being honest with himself, he had never seen an older kid get adopted. Potential parents only wanted babies or toddlers. Occasionally there were those who wanted to skip diapers and would take home a preschooler. And then there was that one-time Kit remembered that a six-year-old named Timothy had managed to mouse his way out of there. But no one ever adopted a nine-year-old. Only farmers and cheap labor men wanted nine-year-olds for their extra hands and small bodies and Mr. Barkley, the Principal of The Freeport Orphanage, was always quick to chase them off.
Kit had found out through the grapevine what had happened to Larry because of his lies back at the orphanage in Freeport, and he would be a liar himself if he didn't admit that it put a smile on his face. Kit also needed no reminder of the brutal flesh-rending punishments Don Karnage would inflict upon those caught lying during his time aboard the Iron Vulture. But he had also learned that the truth was iron clad and that no matter how strong or powerful a man was, the truth would unbiasedly protect or consume them and being in as little stature as he was, it was the one weapon he always had in his favor. How ironic that the deepest scars upon his back were the result of his telling the truth.
Molly only cracked a slight smile and nodded before walking to the table. She couldn't believe it. Here she stood with the condemning evidence of her transgression upon her, the enraged judge had pointed out his guilty verdict upon her and yet he had relented his wrath and a full pardon of her crime had been granted. Forgiveness was hers as much as her friendship was his. She moved to climb to sit in her chair but aborted the action as the cold cloth of her wet clothing stung and stuck to her as she tried to get into the chair and so she stayed standing as she ate, and Kit stood right beside her as he ate his dinner too, toast crumbs missing their plates and falling upon their shirts and around their feet.
-END Part 1-
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-Part 2-
"…after that, we might go play for a little while before it is time to get ready for bed; I wonder if anyone is at the Jungle Aces Clubhouse." Kit was imagining what his sleepover with Molly would be like. They had the entire evening to do whatever they wanted, and he was getting more excited by the moment! Dinner was done and the kitchen was clean, what to do, what to do? They could go for a walk in the twilight or play some games inside after their baths or do some exploring on the outskirts of the city or…. Just then Kit's excitement came to a halt as he suddenly realized what the evening held. Sure, there was time for fun, but how much of it? Should they sacrifice what needed to be done for what they wanted to do? Before bed they both would have to take a bath, brush their teeth, and…... "Hold on a minute. Molly needs a bath now! We can't go anywhere. Does she even have any clean clothes here?"
Kit's childhood had been one riddled with turmoil and strife. He had had to grow up fast and grow up young out of necessity to survive. And while he was no longer living the relentless life he once had and could, at times, actually be a kid, sometimes it paid to think maturely, and this was once such time. In a matter of moments Kit had gone from wondering what he and Molly were going to do with all the rest of the free time they had this evening once he had finished the dishes to considering how he was going to care for this girl beside him. He looked at the clock and noted that somehow the evening had flown by, the sun was down, and he considered that he would figure everything out as it happened; it worked for him on the streets, how much harder could one night at home be?
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Kit had wanted to play some games or go for a walk before bath time, but Molly was in no condition to go out in public and he wasn't going to make her wear her own urine which meant that the only option for the next part of the evening was bath time. Molly, still possessing no desire to be alone was keeping herself at arm's length from Kit. She no longer felt embarrassed around him, he did not shun her or dismiss her and did not think she was a baby. And so, she watched as he started the bathwater.
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Kit placed his hand into the tub to monitor the temperature between getting soap and extra towels ready when the obvious had occurred to him. Molly was about to take a bath and she clearly did not want to be alone, nor could he risk leaving her alone to get into God knows what kind of trouble while he was behind a closed door taking a bath himself, but this didn't change the fact that he needed to take a bath as well which meant that there could only be one possible course for this adventure in babysitting to progress to next this evening. It was now Kit's turn to feel nervous and apprehensive though he wasn't entirely sure why. Was it because she was a girl, and he was a boy? Was it because he was twelve and she was six? Was it both? Or was it the fact that he had become accustomed to privacy in the bathroom since Baloo had taken him in?
Kit thought back to his time at the Freeport and Marshal's Landing orphanages. In an effort to make adult supervision easier and cut down on water bills, the bathrooms back at the orphanages were all equipped with group showers as opposed to individual stalls that were operated by the adults from a single valve control which regulated both temperature and water flow. So, naturally, the children all showered together according to their age group with the youngest children showering first because they went to bed first. However, the boys only showered strictly with the boys and the girls only showered strictly with the girls.
Kit shut off the faucet recognizing that the water was plenty deep enough and turned to Molly. "Bath time" was all he said, his voice sounding tired from the week, the day, and his incursion with Ms. Cunningham. To say he was still angry with her would be an understatement, however Kit knew where to direct his rancor and when to unleash it as well as when to keep it wrangled and under tight lock and key.
Molly smiled and began to undress. She successfully removed one latch of her jumper but then had difficulty with the other. She walked over to Kit who was standing just beside the tub, "Kit, can you help me?"
Kit stared blankly at her for a second before realizing what she was asking. He remembered back when he was her age and had a pair of overalls of his own. He couldn't recall ever having trouble with the latches. Then again orphanages recycled everything, and he wasn't the first kid to wear those overalls, though he was fairly certain that he was the last.
He easily undid the second latch which caused her jumper to fall to the ground. In an instant she had turned around, stepped one leg out of her jumper and with the other she kicked it into the corner and without a second thought she removed her pink shirt and white panties and did the same with them. Little did Kit know that this was her routine at home, the only difference tonight was the location and who else was in the bathroom with her.
Kit froze despite how warm and humid the air in the bathroom was becoming from the hot water. He now had a naked little girl casually standing in front of him with her back turned. He didn't know what to do; should he be doing something? He just watched as she stood facing the dirty-clothes-corner unaware that a slight embarrassed smile was cracking upon his face. Molly stood straight with both feet together and knees locked, she was fidgeting with the pig-tail-ties around her ears which were giving her some attitude.
"Kit" she said as she turned around to face him, "can you help me again?" There was a knot in the tie on her left ear that she was tugging at that was only becoming tighter.
Molly's voice shattered the ice encasing Kit; it was like he had been sleeping with his eyes open. "Uh, yeah, sure, hold on." A pull here, a twist there and the final tie came off.
Molly then approached the edge of the tub with a single enthusiastic skip landing in front of the tub and placing her hands on the edge which was the height of her breast and admittedly much deeper than the normal tub she was accustomed to and curiously much too fancy for such a place as run-down and quaint as Higher for Hire. "Kit" she cutely said as she turned to look at someone who she was starting to consider to be more than a friend, her body continuing to face the tub, "I need help getting in."
Kit looked at her for a moment. Though the light above the sink and tub shined upon and reflected off of her golden honey colored neck, down the arc of her smooth back to her waist, and all other lighter parts of her body the sun never touched and all the way down to her ankles and heels, she did not appear to Kit to show signs that she felt embarrassed or exposed in any way. Looking at the smile on her face, she might as well have been fully clothed, her modesty completely protected even though he saw her every curve. Then again, he figured that he should not be too surprised what with Ms. Cunningham and Molly routinely entering the bathroom every night together for bath time at their apartment over the past week.
Kit continued to stare at her for what must have been minutes but was no more than a few seconds, shyly smiling at her from across the small room. Molly knew what he was looking at, what all of everything he could see that she had to show him, and she did not care. Around him, she felt happy and safe. Her teeth glistened bight white when she spoke, and her eyes shined like the purest mountain stream flowing full of freshly melted snow on an early springtime morning. Her hair was still done up and holding its shape from all that day although every one of the pins and ties had been removed. Her back and bottom bore not a single scratch or scar and her legs, despite their small and delicate appearance could not hide their agile strength and youthful mischievous need for speed. Her face didn't match the rest of the colors of the picture in his peripheral vision, there was too much golden honey shining and showing as compared to all the other times he had seen her, but then again, he had never seen her like this, bare and exposed as she was; it was strangely out of place but somehow rightfully belonged. It was odd seeing her standing there without anything on looking back at him with a patient yet content smile. He had never noticed how beautiful she was until this one moment. Thinking back to earlier in the evening when she had crawled to him for protection and then looking at her smiling back at him now, clothed only in her purity and her innocence, he felt something for her that he could not explain. He assumed that this was what all parents felt when looking upon their own children, or how older siblings grew to see their younger ones of whom they were charged with the care of; in truth, he had no way of knowing for he had never loved anyone and no one had ever loved him, that is, until Baloo had entered his life. But he was not sure if it was love or something else that he felt. Nevertheless, whether he knew it or not, this was the moment that he fell in love with her. This was the moment that he swore that no harm would befall her. This was the moment that he would do anything to protect her. No matter what came, he would not allow her world to be polluted with the horrors of life the likes of which were commonplace within his own. He wanted to gaze upon that bright happy face for a lifetime.
Kit nodded, stood, and placed his hands under her warm, smooth, and soft armpits and lifted her up and over the side of the tub, and into the water; she turned around and rested her hands on the side of the tub, her attention solely on Kit. Without delay Kit started to undress himself. He figured that by the time the water was drained and refilled, and he bathed and dried off, near an hour would pass. A whole hour of Molly being trusted with her own company, and that just wouldn't do. He was willing to bet that at the end of that hour both Molly and he would need another bath for one reason or another; flour came to mind for some reason.
"Are you going to take a bath with me?" Molly said with an oddly excited tone of voice while hopping up and down in the bathtub causing ripples that nearly crested over the rim.
"Yup." There wasn't much else for him to say. Kit was facing away from her as he took his clothes off. Truthfully, he felt weird about this but seeing as there was no real other option, he continued. He removed his shirt and sweater first and tossed them into the corner with the rest of Molly's clothes; he could feel her eyes analyzing the many scars that crisscrossed his back. It wasn't the first time she had seen them, and she didn't know how he got them, or even really what they were, and he had no intention of telling her, but he knew that she would ask; eventually, and he would have to answer her; eventually. He unbuttoned his cargo pants and pulled the zipper down. As he did so he considered that he had never willingly been naked around anyone. At the orphanages shower time was always an order and a routine. Strip and get in line with the others or be striped and then thrown into the cold showers after all the hot water was gone and the other kids were already drying off; the older kids and teens doing the laundry were waiting on all the dirty clothes from the younger ones. The sooner they got them the sooner they were able to finish their job so they could shower and go to bed too. He remembered all the rather uncomfortable instances in which his clothing had been taken from him forcefully; all of them had been rather violent experiences. One such occurrence involved Don Karnage and his infamous metal claw after Kit had dared to contradict him in front of his crew; he could still feel the echoes of slashing pain from that memory. "But this" he thought to himself. "This could be fun." He conjured up old fantasies from his past when he would dream about having a sibling and a family and created new imagined realities in which he was playing with them in the water. He kicked off his cargo pants into the corner with the rest of the dirty clothes before placing his thumbs in the elastic of his underwear, pulling them down without hesitation, and attempting to kick them to the corner too. He had underestimated their weight and heard Molly giggle, whether it was the site of his white briefs flying up instead of across the room and getting hung up on the light fixture above the sink and mirror or simply at the fact that she could see his butt as clearly as he had saw hers just moments earlier, he did not know. With a sigh he reached up and grabbed them down without consequence and tossed them into the originally targeted location.
His mind was still on his imaginary sibling when he turned around and met Molly's smiling face eye to eye before he saw her look down and bring her hand up to cover her mouth. He stepped to the tub but abruptly stopped at the sight of a small pointer finger that was just inches away from touching him in the area of inquiry and the sound of three high pitched words.
"Kit, what's that?" she shamelessly yet inquisitively asked between laughs as she pointed to what was between his legs.
Now Kit, who already had an embarrassed grin from earlier could feel his cheeks start to blush, "That's what makes me a boy."
"How does THAT make you a boy?" Molly folded her arms as Kit stepped over the high rim of the tub and squatted down into the water, her eyes captivated by this new anatomical discovery which looked to grow larger as soon as it came in contact with the hot bath water, her eyes returning to look Kit in the face only after she could no longer clearly see below his waistline due to the water distorting the view.
"Welllllllll, do you have one?" Kit was desperately trying to find a way out of this awkward conversation.
Molly shook her head, "No."
"Well, there you go. That's what makes you a girl!" Kit stated with relief sensing that they were about to start discussing something else.
Molly looked at herself and compared what she saw between her legs with what was between Kit's. "Oh." Molly continued to look back and forth for a few seconds before asking her next question. "How come yours got bigger?"
Kit felt so embarrassed that he could swear that the whole of his body had turned red. "It just does that sometimes. It gets stiff as a board, for absolutely no reason at all."
"Oh." Molly was silent for a moment, but the gears were still turning. She watched as Kit was wetting the bar of soap and began to lather up the washcloth when her eyes narrowed "Kit, how come I don't have one? Why are boys and girls different?"
"Uhhhhhhh" Kit's heart jumped. "Ohhhhkaaaaay, apparently Miz Cunningham hasn't had this discussion with Molly yet." Kit hesitated for a moment, washing his arm to stall for a few seconds before finally deciding to level with her, "I'll tell you what I know…"
-END Part 2-
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-Part 3-
Molly and Kit had since finished their baths and after drying off, brushing their teeth, and a spontaneous first lesson about life, the two were now getting dressed and preparing for bed. After some searching, Kit had found a clean pair of briefs from his dresser drawer and once he had pulled them on, he was attempting to figure out what he could use to clothe Molly in while she marched up and down the hall singing the Danger Woman theme song at the top of her lungs, passing by the doorway of Kit & Baloo's bedroom in all her glory every few seconds; her interest in their anatomical differences clearly having long since been lost. Kit could see her exaggerated raised arms and high steps out of the side of his vision.
"Molly," Kit called as he tossed one of his white undershirts to the parading little nudist, "put this on." It wasn't much, but it would have to do. All his other clothes were too big for her and had he attempted to dress her in Baloo's clothes then he might as well be trying to dress her with a product from Cape Suzette Tent & Awning. At least his shirt could act as somewhat of a nightgown.
Molly pulled the shirt off her recently washed and wildly flowing head of hair and draped the shirt around herself. Once she had her arms through the sleeves, she attempted to button up the front and then like magic, she yawned and suddenly felt a wave of sleepy-time-fatigue wash over her.
"Oh, God, it's contagious!" proclaimed Kit as he too yawned. The night was upon them and soon dreams would flow, but they still had a few minutes. He hadn't been here in a week to do laundry; he had just kept taking more clothes to Ms. Cunningham's apartment which had led to his current predicament of his being out of clothes at his home because they were all somewhere else. Kit was digging around in the bottom of his dresser looking for a nightshirt for himself when he felt a little hand on his back that caused him to look up.
"Kit?" Molly asked, her eyes following her hands as her fingers moved in between the mountains and valleys that had formed a three-dimensional topographical landscape upon Kit's whipped back. "How did you get these?"
Molly felt Kit shiver as he exhaled a long-drawn-out sigh and closed his eyes. A million horror reruns scared him to death as their crimson flashes passed by his active memory in a montage of blood, laughter, gory torment, and rended flesh. He finally found an older blue shirt that would suffice for the night, stood, and pulled it over his head, covering his back and obscuring Molly's path of curiosity. "They were given to me. Every time someone made a mistake, Don Karnage pretended I was to blame."
Molly looked confused and cocked her head to the side a little as she stood there dressed only in Kit's white button-down shirt that reached down to her ankles which Kit had just noticed had been misbuttoned with the top misaligning. "How were they given to you?"
Kit knelt down to Molly and started fixing the buttons before picking her up and placing her in Baloo's bed and pulling up the covers to tuck her in. "Ask me tomorrow morning; it's late and we are both tired." Kit smiled at Molly when he was done, successfully concealing the traumatic memories that were resurfacing behind his brown eyes.
Molly yawned again before sleep rose to take her, "Kit?" She then lowered her voice to a whisper, "I wanna tell you a secret."
Kit whispered with her to play along with Molly's nighttime antic, "What is it?!" He loudly whispered into her ear.
Her eyes were closed, and she was going fast, her voice growing softer with each word until she spoke no more. "You're my best friend, I love you."
With how random the night had been and how all over the place the conversation topics were, Kit wasn't prepared for that. As he stood up, he looked at Molly sleeping there with surprise before turning off the lamp in the corner, surrendering the light of the night to the stars and the half-waned moon above. He crawled into bed and pulled over the covers, laying on his side and observing the other bed across the room, listening to Molly's heavy breathing and thinking of his father who he had not seen in a week and was still in a coma as far as he knew. "And here I thought I didn't have anyone left who loved me."
-END CHAPTER 10-