Kate was actually kind of nervous.

It was stupid to be nervous, she thought, because it was pretty clear that Reggie was into her, but the last time she'd been on a real date had been a long time ago. Especially a real first date. Still, she'd forced Carla Jean to spend several hours in her room, picking through all the clothes she'd collected over her years on the island. As it turned out, she had a lot of super cute stuff, but in the end, she'd settled on a purple sundress and a pair of sandals. Normally she didn't bother with makeup, but she was wearing some now, having dipped into what Effy had left behind.

The last time she'd put on makeup was for Hannibal, which had left her weirdly way less nervous than she was now. She didn't get it, but she was doing her best to deal with it, only pacing a little in her room as she waited for Reggie.

Maybe he was right. Maybe dating someone she lived with was totally nuts, but it was too late now. Besides, she definitely wanted to kiss him again.

Kate's never been much of the 'talk about her feelings' type. She knows most of that is because of the way she grew up, everyone tiptoeing around Tara, making sure they didn't set off any of the alters by accident. She knows it's also the reason she rebelled so hard, too, went in the complete opposite direction and made everyone super aware of all her superficial feelings in as loud a voice as she could manage.

That's different, though. That was never real or serious. There aren't that many years between her and Overland Park now, but there's enough that she can see it for what it was, but seeing it doesn't mean she's stopped it. She still acts like that, still acts out when she can't see another way to deal, but it doesn't work. That much she's figured out. It just doesn't work.

Pushing things down, pretending they're not there, none of that works for long.

She can't talk to Danny about this, she's sure of that, and she's not remotely interested in going to any of the therapists on the island. Not that they're not great, she's sure they're perfectly nice people, but she doesn't trust most mental health professionals and she doesn't see that changing any time soon. Her friends are awesome, but it's kind of a limited social circle and of the two she trusts the most, there's only one she can talk to about any of this.

Which is why she's dragging Carla Jean along with her to the Winchester. Not that she thinks she has to force her to come along, but she still feels a little awkward. She's just not good at talking about her feelings.

"So," she says, drawing the word out as they near the bar. "Dinner's totally on me?"

Kate still isn't sure how she's talked her roommates into going down to Rapture with her, but somehow she's managed. It's probably a really bad idea, right up there with a lot of things she's done lately, but she needs to do something. It feels like she wants to crawl out of her skin most of the time and everything she's tried so far has only managed to keep that feeling at bay for a very short period of time.

So now she's going to put herself in a dangerous situation and see if that helps any.

She's been down there before, but that was with Kate and they were the only ones there. Now there are people moving around, it's like the city has come alive again. That's what she's been told. The people are back and there's movement and she wants to see it. Even if the place is crumbling and falling down, she wants to see it alive instead of dead.

"Ready?" she asks. She should get her gun, but she doesn't want to touch it. Not again. They'll be fine without it, she figures. They'll be okay.

It wasn't that Kate was one of those people who totally hated Valentine's Day and everything it stood for, but she'd never really cared much about it either. It was nice to get presents, but she'd lived on the island long enough now that she didn't expect anything.

Usually, what she expected on a day like today was something weird. The fact that she woke up in her own body had been nice and so far nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She didn't feel the need to tell everyone she loved them or act out of character. She didn't feel weird at all.

"I guess nothing is going to happen today," she said to Chang. "I should probably take you outside to play."

The dog bounced around the living room while she collected his ball and a pair of sandals, then raced through the door ahead of her when she opened it. Kate dragged her chair down off the porch and set it up in front of the hut, then began to throw the ball into the jungle for Chang.

"I'm glad you don't eat all my stuff," she said to him. "You know I'm not very good at being tough."

It wasn't like she was an expert yet, but between the talk with the psychologist and the stuff she and Danny were doing lately, she'd gotten used to the gun at least. Even so, she kept the damn thing locked up in the box, just like she'd promised Harley she would, and it would stay there until Danny told her she was allowed to carry it or until she was actually licensed or however it worked on the island. Generally, Kate was all about breaking rules, but not when it came to something like this. Something that could get people killed.

So the gun was still in her closet, locked in the box as she lounged out in front of her hut. She was going over the applications for her new roommate, papers spread out around her. Chang was lying nearby in the shade and although she was occasionally asking him for his opinion, he didn't seem to be all that concerned or interested in who she picked.

"If you're going to be like that, I'm just gonna pick the person who likes dogs the least," she threatened.

Chang didn't seem to care.

The bookshelf keeps giving her books on drawing. It's sort of annoying, because the very last thing in the world Kate is interested in is drawing. Well, that's sort of an exaggeration. There are probably a few things she's less interested in, like walking on hot coals and shit like that, but if she's going to do anything artistic, it's going to be dancing.

Or makeup. Which she supposes is just drawing on her own face, but it's totally different.

So she's collected the books -- six in all, though the bookshelf tries to give her more -- and she's walking to Harley's place carrying all of them in a pink bag. Which, now that she's almost entirely there, she's realizing probably wasn't the best idea. They're fucking heavy and Chang isn't much of a help, trotting along beside her, occasionally sniffing himself. When she reaches Harley's hut, she's sweaty and she all but throws the bag on the ground.

"Oh, my god, I hope you're home," she groans, loud enough to be heard if he's inside. "I'm just gonna leave this shit here even if you're not."

Kate was still pretty pissed off. The conversation she'd had with Harry earlier in the day was still more than fresh in her mind, but she had no idea what to do about it. A part of her wanted to go to Hermione, get her to talk sense into him, but that felt wrong in a way. It wouldn't be fair. Hermione didn't need to be put in the middle of something like this and Kate didn't want anyone to have to talk sense into Harry. He was supposed to have his own sense.

A part of her wanted to go find some random dude to make out with, just so she could prove to Harry that she didn't care. If he wanted to pretend he'd forgotten her, she'd just move on and forget all about him, too. But even after putting on some makeup and one of the cuter outfits she owned, Kate found it wasn't that easy. The vengeful part of her was convinced it would be, but she was hurt and even the idea of getting back at him just made her feel worse.

She was still wearing the cute outfit that evening -- adorable red shorts and a polka dot tank top -- but there was no one who cared. Lionel would have complimented her, she was sure of it, or even Jeff, but neither of them were around. Marshall would have gotten stoned with her, but he was gone, too. Effy was dealing with her own stuff and Kate felt bad about giving her anything else to worry about, so she was wandering aimlessly. When she spotted Carla Jean, though, her eyes lit up and she picked up her pace.

"Hey," she said brightly, though it was forced. "Wanna come to the Winchester?" It was a last minute plan, but right now, Kate really didn't want to be sober.

It's been a couple of weeks now. Long enough that Kate's not really mad anymore. Long enough that she even sort of gets what Danny was trying to say to her that day in the Compound, but she's still a little hurt. It's not even about what he wants her to do, in the end. It's about feeling like she wasn't listened to at all and it reminds her just a little too much of how things used to be at home sometimes.

Still, class has been awkward as all hell and she knows that she's going to have to be the one to go to Danny. He basically told her as much, after all, and she figures that makes sense, even if it makes her super uncomfortable and even if she has no idea how to start. It's like she wants to be an adult and calmly tell him why she was upset, but that's hard. It's hard because it's super vague and she feels pretty stupid about it now.

But she still has to try. She knows that much, which is why she's at Danny's place that afternoon. Right now she's going to be an adult, she's going to talk to him, but she's also going to tell him why she's upset. Because she deserves to be heard.

"Danny?" she calls, knocking lightly on the door. "Are you here?"

"We can do this," Kate says, standing at the kitchen counter, ingredients spread out around her in a haphazard manner. There's too much stuff here, she thinks, she can't remember Marshall ever using this much stuff just to bake, but she's got all the ingredients the recipe calls for.

Of course, she's really not the type to bake, normally, but lately she feels like she wants to do things that she normally doesn't do. No matter what, she feels shitty. Marshall's still gone. There are people around her, people who love her and who are trying, but she doesn't know how to feel better. What she wants, more than anything, is to just sleep for a week, but if she does that, she doesn't know who's going to take care of the two of them.

"Right?" she asks, looking at Effy. She's coaxed her into the kitchen today with the promise of brownies, although now that she's here, she isn't sure they're going to be any good. This is really Marshall's area of expertise and she's pretty sure she's going to butcher them. But maybe that's why she's doing it, just to remind her of all the things he did for her, all the things she can't do herself.

Because she can't. She's really lost without him and she doesn't know how to say it or how to ask for help, because she's never needed help before. She's always had Marshall and he's always had her. It's how they've gotten through life. Now she's alone.

"So there's butter and flour and, uh... baking soda? Or baking powder? Fuck, I can't remember." And she'd consult the book, but her hands are already covered in crap. She really has no idea how he managed to do this so well and always stay clean. Probably why he always wore those super gay aprons.

It was late.

Effy was inside, probably asleep, Maxxie had gone awhile ago, Kate didn't know where. Harry was supposed to be here any minute, she knew that much, but she couldn't find the energy to get up from the front step of the hut she shared with Marshall.

The hut she used to share with him.

For the better part of the day, she'd looked for him. It was the first time she'd left Effy alone for so long and there was a part of her that thought she should feel guilty about it. She was supposed to be looking after her friend. Not like it was a job, she just was. That was what she was doing for Effy because they were friends and she wasn't doing it now. But she didn't feel guilty. She didn't feel much of anything.

One of Marshall's stupid cardigans was crumpled in her hands. She'd been holding it the entire time she'd spoken with Maxxie, though she didn't remember most of that conversation. The point was easy enough and she remembered saying it. Hating herself for saying it. Marshall's gone.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to look out for each other, through all the shit back home and through all the shit here, that was what they did. She didn't want to admit it, especially not to him, but without Marshall to keep her pulled together, Kate was pretty much a disaster. And she'd never told him that. Never thanked him for keeping her together. Never said that she loved him. Never told him that he was her best friend.

Because friends looked out for each other. It was what she was doing for Effy and it was what she was supposed to be doing for Marshall.

It was what he was supposed to do for her.

But he was gone and Kate sat on the front porch, his cardigan in her hands, and wondered who the hell was going to look after her now.