everyone_takes | [Post-rave: For Jeff & Danny]

[Post-rave: For Jeff & Danny]

Kate had no idea how she'd gotten to the Compound.

She didn't know what time it was or where any of her friends were or why she was at the Compound instead of at the rave. Maybe it was over. Maybe it was so late that it was done and she'd tried to stumble home and had instead found herself in the rec room, surrounded by books and movies and things she didn't want.

Earlier, she'd been feeling good. Well, not good. Good enough. For some reason, good seemed to be escaping her lately, like maybe she wasn't capable of feeling it right now. But the rave had offered an escape; a distraction she'd snapped up greedily, but she couldn't remember the last hour or how she'd gotten into the rec room or why she was even there and although the drugs were still coursing through her, they felt dark and unhappy. She didn't know where Harry was and she didn't know where Marshall was and it was late. Everything was dark.

People were still moving about, she could hear them, like she always did when she was in the Compound. It was never silent, never completely still, not like home had even managed to be now and then.

She wandered toward the bookshelf, even though she didn't want a book. She wanted to go back to her room and sleep until the world stopped spinning and she wanted to be sure that the people she loved were okay -- her mom and her dad and Charmaine -- and it wasn't until she leaned against the bookshelf that she realized what every single shelf was filled with.

A Doctor's Harrowing Journey of Treating a Woman with 17 Personalities and The Dissociative Identity Disorder Sourcebook. Kate frowned as she scanned the rest of the shelves, finding more of the same. A Shattered Mind and The Stranger in the Mirror and book after book on trauma and attachment and it was stupid, it normally wouldn't have bugged her much, but she couldn't take it right now.

"Fuck you, you bastard," she whispered, pulling one book off and letting it drop to the ground. It was strangely satisfying and Kate grinned, pulling off another and another, each thump on the floor causing her smile to grow. She didn't realize that the noise was louder than she thought, didn't realize she wasn't actually whispering, but shouting at the bookshelf. Each book she pulled off was replaced with another, all of them about DID, all of them about the disorder, but nothing about her mother.

"This is all bullshit!" she shouted, getting her hands on the shelf itself and trying to pull it out. Maybe if she toppled the whole damn thing, maybe if she burned it, then it would stop. In the middle of a pile of books and movie reels, Kate began to search herself for a lighter, finding a book of matches in one pocket of her shorts. Like most of the night, she couldn't remember how they'd gotten there, but it didn't matter.

She was going to burn this fucker.

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"I'm not destroying anything!" Kate protested, but she let herself be guided into the office, sitting down on one of the beds with an annoyed huff. There had been a moment earlier when she'd thought of burning down the bookshelf, she remembered that now, but she couldn't remember why she thought that might have been a good idea.

"It was the books," she said suddenly, pushing her tangled hair off her face. "I wasn't doing anything and then it was the books. Did you even see them? They were all the stupid shit that I just..." She sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Whatever."

Danny takes the opposite bed, slowly unknotting his tie given that he figures this is gonna be a long night. He locks the door behind him before sprawling out on the second bed and keeping an eye on her. After a second, he disappears, but only to bring back water and some bread and butter on a plate, handing the both to her. "Are you kidding me? The bookshelf gives me Harlequin romance novels all the time, but I'm not trying to tear it apart," he says dubiously. "If books are really driving you over the edge, then maybe you oughta become a film aficionado."

"That's my brother's job," she muttered, looking down at the food and water. Vaguely, she could remember talking to Marshall at the rave, telling him to go earn the right to wear Maxxie's crown and suddenly she wished she'd just gone home with Harry instead of wandering off. Going home with her boyfriend probably would have meant something better than this.

"And, yeah, I'm totally sure that your romance novel problem is equally as upsetting as all the mental health books that it throws at me," she added, picking at the bread. "Like I need a reminder of how much doctors suck and couldn't help my mom."

Danny watches her carefully, wondering how long it'll take for the drugs to get out of her system. Almost an afterthought, he drags up a bucket too, just in case. "What does she suffer from?" he asks quietly. 'What's wrong with her' is just too damn abrasive and Danny knows he wouldn't appreciate the wording, so he's going for understanding.

Kate wasn't even sure why a cop would care -- as far as she knew, cops really didn't give a shit about that sort of thing when it was her mom in trouble with the law -- but the drugs and alcohol had loosened her tongue even more than usual.

"DID," she said, finally eating a bit of the bread. Now that she wasn't moving, she could feel how tired she was, the toll the night had taken on her. "Dissociative Identity Disorder. It means she's a bunch of different people." And on days like today, she missed all of them. Even Alice.

"Shit," Danny exhales, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry." He wants to think it'd be easier if there was no suffering, like Steve, but that's just a completely different barrel of suck. "I had to arrest someone with DID as a suspect. They didn't do it, in the end, but the psychologist we brought in had some definite opinions about it, none of them were that it was easy."

He leans forward, his forearms on his thighs. "How come you let it bug you?"

"You sound like my mom's therapist alter," she answered, because it really was a little bit like Shoshana telling her that she hid behind her anger. Reaching up, she drew one hand through her hair, trying to work through the tangled curls as she tried to decide on an answer. For the most part, people didn't care how her mom being sick affected her or Marshall. And when they did, they tried to show it in some weird, fucked up way, like her grandparents.

"It bugs me because I'm stoned on the wrong kind of drugs," she said finally, which was mostly the truth. The DID was just part of her family. It didn't matter, but she did want to know that things were okay back home. "You mean it wouldn't bug you? Ever?"

"Hey, so long as you're not gonna accuse me of being Dr. Phil, cuz that got old a long time ago," he informs her, sipping at his own glass of water before he shifts on the bed and sprawls out to get comfortable. "What, if there was some kind of sickness in my family? Yeah, it'd bug me, but I wouldn't try and tear it all down. I'd yell. I'd make faces, I would probably use hyperbole as much as I can, but...look, I get anger in the face of this shit. I'm dating someone who practically went postal over a toolbox. I said it then, I'll say it now. So not worth it."

Even that sounded like Shoshana and Kate leaned back on the bed, the plate on her stomach, her glass of water untouched on the floor. It was one of the last things her mother had ever said to her; an alter accusing her of hiding behind costumes and anger just so she wouldn't have to face things head on, but Kate was fine with that. She didn't need to face things head on.

"Well, I'm a teenager," she answered, looking over at Danny. "So I guess I just have a ways to go before I stop trying to burn shit down when I'm pissed off."

"Truth," Danny insists, poking a finger in her direction as he sits up. "And so long as you know that your friendly neighborhood IPD is gonna hold you if you actually burnt anything down. Actually, scratch that. Flames on anything means you're definitely getting a record. I know this place is crazy into a lack of consequences, but I like to think that records prohibit things like serving on Council and holding down jobs, here. Not that you care," he admits, waving a hand in the air. "Teenager."

"I didn't burn anything," she pointed out. "Nothing. Okay? I get it, I fucked up and I reacted the wrong way and now I have to spend a night in jail." And he was right, she didn't care about having a job right now, but even Kate knew she might be here for years and eventually she'd want to do something other than party and pretend nothing bugged her. And she'd have to thank Jeff eventually for making sure she didn't burn anything down.

"And I didn't mean that I don't care about shit like that," she said, still picking absently at the bread. The effects of the drugs were leaving her, the room too bright now, the lights no longer pleasant. "I just... I meant..." Trailing off, Kate shrugged. "I don't know."

"Again, teenager. You're not supposed to know," he says, hauling himself up into a sitting position. "Me? I knew I wanted to be a cop by the time I was nine, but I had a delinquent brother who gave me a lot of practice," he boasts with a smug grin. "I knew the Miranda warning by heart before I was ten."

"That's... sort of really nerdy," Kate said, finally putting some of the bread into her mouth. She wasn't that hungry, but since she'd only had brownies and punch since that evening, eating was probably a good thing. "How come everyone seems to know what they want to be when they're still just kids?"

The real question was why didn't she know? Why did everyone seem to know the place that was meant for them while she just kept floundering along, working jobs that didn't matter or ones that mattered in a way that was sort of gross.

"I had these plastic handcuffs that I never left home without, you're goddamn right I was a big nerd," Danny agrees, watching her carefully in case he needs to bust out the Heimlich at any point soon. "And I dunno, I knew because I have four younger siblings and I kept 'em in line. I did good and I liked it. We're not all that lucky. I had a coworker turn to policework because pro-surfing didn't work out. You never know."

They definitely weren't all that lucky, but it seemed like everyone Kate met had either done something big already or was well on their way. Even if doing something big just meant not fucking up. It was better than her resume, which basically included a shitty restaurant chain and a stint as a half-naked comic book character.

"Well, it must be nice," she said finally, eating more of the bread. "To be that sure of something."

"Yeah, it is," Danny agrees with a stupid smile on his face, considering that he did what he loved and he got a thrill out of serving the community in doing it. "How're you feeling?" he asks, his attention still on her chewing. "When you're sober enough, we'll do official introductions. You know, when you're bound to actually remember me."

"Well, the lights are a lot less exciting than they were a few hours ago," she answered dryly, but she could feel the headache creeping in and although she knew getting to sleep would be a bitch, it was probably needed. It was always like this after one of the raves and usually she was in her own bed, where the headache and inability to sleep didn't bother her so much.

But this time she was in jail.

"Besides, I can't forget the first person to ever arrest me," she added with a smile, even though it hurt her jaw to do so.

Danny chuckles at that, grinning as he salutes like that's something to actually be proud of. "I've got you in for holding. Your first real arrest is probably gonna be someone else. I mean, unless you're gonna give me that honor twice-over," he says with a smirk. "We'll take a picture with you in the cuffs and everything."

"I'll just try not to get arrested again," she said, finishing one of the pieces of bread. Leaning over the edge of the bed, she grabbed the water glass and took a sip before she set it down again. It wasn't like getting arrested was at the top of her list of things to do. They'd had enough run ins with the cops over the past few years.

"It was a one time thing," she decided.

"That's for the best," he admits, watching her as she renounces arresting for all futures to come. Or, you know, the less-dramatic of that. "I know a couple people who got arrested all the time when they were young. The trick is getting it out of your system before you're sixteen and the record slaps you on the wrists. Juvie? Nah, they seal those things."

Kate wondered if it still worked that way when your alter was fifteen. She was sure T had managed to get herself arrested at least once. If she'd avoided that, Kate was definitely impressed.

"What about here?" she asked, leaning back on the pillow and stifling a yawn. She was more exhausted than she'd expected and the headache was getting worse. "Do they seal them here, too?"

Danny gives her a sympathetic look. If this were Gracie, he'd dig out another blanket and pillow. Though, if it were Gracie, he'd also think seriously about losing the key until she learned her lesson -- or siccing her mother on her. "Here? To be honest, I think people are pretty lax about what kids get up to. I mean, as a cop and a Dad? I don't really agree so much, but if you show signs of community devotion, yeah, they'd get thrown away or sealed or whatever you want to call it."

Kate wasn't really sure she showed any sort of community devotion. For the most part, she tried not to be too much of a dick, but she didn't do anything except for play guitar, sunbathe, dance and eat. "The rules were never a big deal at home," she admitted. "Well, I guess my parents wanted them to be, but it's hard to enforce the rules in a situation like that."

And she'd pretty much done what she wanted, anyway.

"I know a guy," Danny says offhand. "You two would get along. He thinks rules are meant to be broken. I mean, lucky for the world he also has a Batman-like sense of justice. Or Superman. I don't know, which of them is the one who wants to put bad guys away and bring about world peace? Or am I just thinking about Miss America, here?"

"Are you trying to set me up?" Kate asked, pressing her face into the pillow and trying not to think about how many drunk people had done the same before her. God, she hoped they washed this thing.

"Because I already have a boyfriend," she continued. "Although he's definitely not Superman. He's better."

[Post-rave: For Jeff & Danny]

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