Sol's attack had hurt her more than her psyche wanted to admit, but still there was no conscious admittance of pain or defeat. She was Kitten, the black widow of Charybdis, the bloodthirsty girl who had slain all of five people before she even hit her sixteenth birthday. Nothing... nothing was going to stand in her way. Reality was a faint, dim concept, and she shoved it aside in favor of the hunting high that kept her fighting even after her loss became evident and inevitable.

Until Mode appeared. Sol had knocked her to the ground, and she started to giggle even as she spit a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor. Her eyes were serpentine and soft, unfocused yet shining with an insane sort of happiness. She knew she wasn't going to die, not here, not today. After all... cats have nine lives. And she'd only used up seven.

Death was simply not an option.

Mode shoved her into the hallway and she fell onto all fours, turning her head in time to watch him spar with Sol. No. That bitch had hurt her Jax before, and she was not about to let her do the same to her Mode. But her love knocked Sol aside and picked her up just as Kat stood and tried to limp back into the fight. She fought against him as he carried her through the corridors, angry at being bereft of her fun. They were hers to kill, and he didn't understand. They're not dead, I can't stop yet...

When he moved into one of the empty Quad barracks and locked the door behind them, throwing her to the floor, she didn't even resist. Her pupils dilated wildly as she rolled onto her back to face him, bruises blossoming and blood leaking as she turned her face to spit. He only looked down at her and spoke mildly. "Having fun again without me, Kat?"

She grinned broadly, eyes sparkling with rage. "You sheem to shtop my fun lotsh wately, Mode." That she was slurring her words didn't even register fully; for all she knew, she was completely fine, just angry at having been torn away before her revenge was complete. Kat managed to get herself on all fours, pushing up to stand on weak shaky legs before her knees gave out and she toppled to the floor once more.

This was confusing her beyond belief. Why couldn't she stand? Why did she sound so funny when she talked? Her eyes narrowed as she licked the blood from her lips, cleaning herself. She rubbed her hands onto her pants, noticing with detachment the bruises on her face as she touched her cheek gingerly. Injuries? Couldn't be. She'd fought harder opponents than Sol before, and won. This was no different.

Another attempt at standing, and another failure. Mode merely stood watching her passively, and she giggled wildly to herself at the thought of Gabe's face when she'd stabbed him. Wait... she patted her leg suddenly, feeling the sheath but not her dagger. Kat glanced up at Mode and struggled to move, finding her muscles oddly reluctant to assist her efforts.

His little Kat just didn't know when to quit.

She began to crawl again, more slowly, and when she reached him and tried to move past he held the back of her shirt and kept her in place. She couldn't figure out immediately what was wrong, and he tried not to laugh as she tried to back up and then push forward, looking for the source of her hindrance. Just like a kitten.

Tiring of this at last, he flipped her over onto her back, her head resting against his thigh. He put one hand on her forehead to keep her from trying to rise and another on her midsection. He slid a hand over her chest, but she was really too out of it to be any fun, and eventually he just held her there while she struggled vainly.

Her disorientation multiplied tenfold when she was halted in her crawl towards the door, and Kat's eyebrows drew together in bewilderment, eyes wide and wondering when Mode rolled her onto her back and held her to the floor. Her head rested on his thigh, and he ran his hands over her, naive shock making her try uselessly to escape once more.

"Now, sweetheart. You know better... and if we keep having these little sessions, I might not be around to save you the next time, Kitten." His tone was smooth and sweet, and she smiled broadly at him, a childish grin that slowly faded as a little more of her conscious recrystallized and reality crept in around the edges of her vision.

Gabe and Sol. Where were Gabe and Sol? Where was her dagger? And why was she bleeding?

Kat licked at her lips again, then spread her fingers as she tried to rid herself of the dried blood that was strangely present. Not hers, and thoughts of Gabe and their battle began to appear faintly. She wrinkled her nose and rubbed at her face, ignorant to her bruises and cuts, except for the unconscious flinch at the corners of her eyes.

Gabe and Sol.

"Mwode? We gotta go pway. Dere gonna get away, and I hafta kill dem." His gaze hardened almost imperceptably, and she shifted weakly under his hold, pouting visibly even as her own eyes narrowed. She had to go back. She had to kill them. Mode wasn't about to stop her... and more of her psyche reformed, giving her enough strength to bat his hands away from her and flip onto all fours again.

He considered striking her, but Sol had done enough of that, and gotten little response. Another idea came to him, and he smiled down at her as he brought her hands down, put them under his knees, palm up. He wanted his hands free. His right he put to her head, gently stroking her curls, and his left he used to slide fingers over her lips before covering her mouth and nose with his cupped palm and pressing down enough to make a seal.

Those clouded green-gold eyes grew wide, and her body twisted beneath his, but he held her easily, tightened his right hand in her curls to keep her head still, his breath coming faster as he savored the struggle she was putting up. She made a few little noises before she ran completely out of air, and her muscles tightened delightfully under him as he pressed down a little harder. After forty-five seconds of struggle, the clouded look fell away and she focused on him, furious pleading slipping into the yellow-green eyes, but he held her for another ten seconds before he finally allowed his hand to fall away. He was almost trembling with excitement, but he forced deep breaths even as she gasped air in, and his heart slowed reluctantly.

Her thoughts weren't very helpful in reassuring her body as she struggled madly in Mode's hold, his hand cover her nose and mouth as she fought to breath. No air. Breathe, goddamnit! Her lungs were screaming for air, and it seemed as it all the muscles around her chest began to tighten in a vise, smothering her as she looked to Mode with wide, clouded eyes.

Snap.

His face was excited and sadistically pleased as she stared up at him, eyes refocusing with a flare of rage. Kat would have given anything to see his face wear the same expression Gabe's had when she stabbed him in the chest, and the darkness was beginning to intrude on the edges of her vision when he finally pulled his hand away.

Nothing. She almost didn't know what to do. Breathe... that was it, and with a gasp she began to pant, hungry for air as everything snapped into place with sudden clarity, and she snarled breathlessly at him, pulling her hands from under his knees and lashing out with a clawed hand, her hiss keening and angry. How could he do that to her?! Her Mode, her love, her... hate. Overwhelming rage at having been denied the satisfaction of Gabe and Sol's deaths slashed at her painfully, and she almost cried out with the injustice of his intervention.

You'll kill them. Just not today...

Mode's eyes flickered to confused smoke as Katera struck at him, catching him across the cheek, those sharp nails drawing four red marks horizontally into his pale skin. He gasped, but he was still too horrified by what he'd just done to block her or grab her hand. She was still sucking in air raspingly and trying to scoot backwards, away from him.

He didn't blame her. If he could have escaped himself similarly, he would have...but he could not, and so he just watched her with pain written on his features.

It was necessary, said the little demon in his mind, his voice sickeningly reasonable. She's back now, and that's what matters, isn't it? It chuckled, and he shivered and locked it down more tightly as he reached out and pulled her to him. She struck him again, a glancing blow that almost missed him entirely, but he ignored it and held her close to him anyway, bowing his head to place his cheek against her shoulder as she shuddered and struggled and gasped.

She'd faced pain before; overwhelming pain. The knife slash across her abdomen had spilled her life-blood across the faded asphalt of that child's playground. Jax's death had nearly torn her heart in two as he drew his last breath and slumped at her feet, whispering her name. Her old scars and wounds had opened and bled before her very eyes, and she was helpless to do anything, strapped to a lab table and watched passively as she screamed. Still. It wasn't pain like this.

Her ribs gave her a stabbing pain as she tried to draw deep breathes, unable to do anything but pant and gasp shallowly, tears coming unwillingly to her eyes. Tears of injustice, of hate still unresolved, of disbelief that she had held vengeance so close and let it slip away between her fingers again, had been pulled from her redemption in Gabe's blood and Sol's attack. Bereft of the moment she'd dreamt of for eight long, godforsaken years, Kat keened loudly and struck at Mode with all the strength she still possessed.

But her body barely responded, and that enraged her further. She felt as helpless as she had the night those army boys had played with her; mind struggling with all its might to fight back, while her body just stood by passively and left her to her fate. Her nails bit into his skin as she slashed at his other cheek, but he only tilted his head to the side, refusing to hurt her in return.

Hurt me, Mode. You stole their deaths from me, and I may never have that chance again. You got your opportunity to repay Wick for all she'd done. They sent me to Charybdis, to hell, and you sit and stare now. At least fight back...