1Even though Kate had half-heartedly entreated Niko to call her after the funeral, she didn't hear from him until a week later. Granted, this was for the best. Kate would have been lying if she claimed not to have thought of Niko at all, but she preferred not to do so, as her heart throbbed and her head spun whenever she did.
It was astonishing, really, how quickly her life went back to normal following the funeral. When Kate returned to work, only a small number of her coworkers had heard of her family's recent tragedy. Kate dismissed those who offered their condolences, and soon the conversational topics shifted once again to men and their habits, plans for the upcoming holidays and celebrity gossip. They couldn't care any more than Kate did about Francis, and Kate was glad to let the matter rest.
The day after burying Francis, Kate considered calling Dr. Perez to schedule an emergency appointment. She hadn't spiraled out of control the way she had in the car since starting therapy, and feared she was regressing. However, she refrained from making the call, as merely imagining that too-friendly office with the indents in the ceiling maddened her. Instead, she pushed through her issues as she always had, shutting all thoughts of the funeral from her mind, until her phone's screen lit up on Friday night with a very familiar name.
"Hi, Kate," Niko said the instant Kate put her phone to her ear. "How are you holding up?"
"Like reinforced concrete," Kate said automatically. "Weathering the storm."
"That's good." There was a touch of uneasiness in Niko's voice, as if he didn't fully believe his own words. Kate wondered what reaction he'd expected. He knew that she wouldn't be distraught over Francis, nor would she be chipper. They'd seen too much of each other to hide their feelings. So why am I shying away from him?
Closing her eyes, Kate crossed her fingers and prayed that Niko hadn't called to ask the question she knew she couldn't resist. His next statement dashed her hopes. "Uh… if it is not too much trouble, would you like to go out with me? Maybe tonight? I-" He broke off, his sentence cut short, though Kate unwillingly filled in the blanks. Please, God, don't tell me he was going to say he missed me.
"I…" Kate sighed noisily through her nose, sliding her fingers through her hair. Seeing Niko was bound to open wounds that were just scabbing over. She couldn't imagine the night going well. But a week had passed- she ought to have recovered from what had happened at the funeral. She made a snap decision. If this is the last night we see each other, so be it.
"Sure, it would be nice to see you, Niko." That's one word for it, anyway. "Lord knows I could use a break." Kate paused slightly, unsure if she should lay her idea on Niko, before plunging ahead with, "As long as I pick the place. We better end up completely hammered, or there's no point going out at all."
At first Kate thought Niko might disagree, or ask her what she meant by hammered, but he acquiesced with his usual stoicism. "Okay then. I will see you in an hour."
"Okay," Kate said tightly. She put her phone away and immediately dragged herself out to the front stoop. Fuck preparations. Fuck "looking good." Niko wouldn't care, and neither did Kate. The sun was setting, painting a dim splash of color over Liberty City, and Kate focused on the sight, begging it to soothe her soul. But the more she stared, the more her nerves frayed away.
When Niko pulled up at the house- in less than an hour, Kate noted- the sight of his new car filled Kate with an indescribable irritation. Why can't he stick with just one? She hurried down the steps, starting to realize that this might not be a good idea. She was too incendiary, ready to flare up should Niko make one wrong move. And yet… she didn't care what happened. Alcohol would help extinguish the flame.
Kate felt Niko's eyes on her as she climbed into the car, which bothered her more than she wanted it to. She greeted him while staring straight ahead. Though Niko immediately seemed to pick up on her mood, he took that as an invitation to engage her in conversation, though Kate wanted to clamp her jaw and not say a word.
"Are you okay, Kate?"
"Yes, good," Kate sighed, before deciding that Dr. Perez's advice to stay positive was complete bunk. "No. No, terrible. I'm not good at this optimism thing. I'm tired."
"Sorry," Niko murmured. His decided underreaction emboldened Kate to elaborate. Didn't he care about anything…?
"I'm tired of this life, tired of this city… Tired of everything. Tired of myself, tired of you." Kate looked over at Niko, to find him watching the rearview mirror. He appeared distracted, but his response was sincere. "We don't have to be friends anymore, if it upsets you."
Kate wanted to laugh, but the sound got stuck in her throat. Because it's just that easy, right?
"Oh, shut up," she snapped. "I don't mean that. I like you, I really like you. You know I do." She was startled to admit the words she'd never dared think, let alone speak. But what did it matter? The fact that she liked Niko meant nothing in the long run. I like a lot of people. Doesn't mean I approve. It didn't mean they would listen to her warnings and do what was best instead of plunging headfirst into danger. All it meant was that Kate would be there to weep over their bodies when their way of life finally caught up to them. The thought depressed Kate more than anything. She could never let herself like Niko, regardless of her true feelings…
"I like you," Niko said, sounding puzzled as to what Kate was on about. The simplicity of his statement caused Kate to clench her fists, digging her nails into her palms. An outburst was coming on, over which she had no control, and Niko was set to be caught in the crossfire.
"No you don't!" she exploded. "You don't like anything. You tolerate me, like you tolerate life. But you don't like me." Kate felt a bomb lodged in her throat, one that might obliterate her friendship with Niko if she released it, but she couldn't stop herself. "If you liked me, you'd give this up. Give up this life for me, I mean."
The demand surprised Kate herself. She felt as if she'd been torn in two. On the one hand, who was she to ask Niko to abandon his lifestyle for good? Just like Kate, Niko liked a lot of people. Why should her opinion matter more than the others? But on the other hand, Kate was through trying to pretend that Niko meant less to her than he really did. It couldn't have escaped Niko's notice that she was always free when he called her. Despite her misgivings, he always kept her coming back.
And it went both ways. No one else showed up at Kate's door night after night, cancelling plans in favor of seeing her. No one else had attended her brother's funeral just to be there for her. Through every display of unwarranted kindness, Niko proved that he cared about Kate, at times when most would have given up on her. But Kate couldn't stop picturing his bloodlust outside the church, gunning down Albanians one by one. Niko's actions dictated that he cared… but he knew how Kate felt about his violent ways, and he still refused to end it.
Or was she being selfish? Kate's head whirled, her thoughts refusing to make sense. She found herself desperately scanning the scenery for signs of a bar nearby.
"I don't think men can change," Niko said, his voice breaking into Kate's thoughts. Kate flinched at his resolve. Yeah, I've heard that a million times. She felt that she should drop it, especially when she didn't have the excuse of being intoxicated, but once she'd started, she couldn't stop. "So you could do this until you've killed everyone? Or until you die? Your life must be hell!"
Niko sighed loudly. "You have a very American way of looking at things." Though his voice was as calm as ever, Kate saw his hands clench against the steering wheel. She felt like apologizing, or admitting point taken, but the response aggravated her frustration. No more "I was in a war." No more "men can't change." No more "The world is hard, what are you going to do? " There was always something to do, even if Niko couldn't see it.
"Give it up!" Kate shouted. "Move away! Grow up! Get out! You could be happy! It's over, this life of yours. You could change!" Her voice softened. "At least think about it."
"Sure!" Now Niko's voice held a foreign emotion. It took Kate a moment, flipping through her memories of the church shootout, before she identified it as anger. "I'll think about it."
"Thank you." Though Kate had won the argument- at least, she thought she had- she didn't feel triumphant at all. She slouched in her seat, counting down the minutes before the car slowed and the Steinway Beer Garden was in view.
Upon entering the bar, Kate didn't retain a single aspect of its interior. She made a beeline straight for the counter, not caring whether Niko was following her or not. After ordering, she nearly got into a scuffle with Niko over who was paying, relenting only when she figured that it was one last thing to worry about. She quietly fumed as the bartender served her first drink, all too aware of Niko sitting beside her. Come on, alcohol, work your magic. Though Kate wasn't sure if said magic involved blocking out her emotions, or allowing her to experience them full force. It was always a gamble. As long as it makes me feel better.
The night proceeded in much the same way as Kate's first outing with Niko had. She lost herself to the alcohol, unaware of her surroundings and only vaguely acknowledging Niko's presence. However, as the empty glasses piled up, Kate's despondency grew. The wire on which she'd been teetering between level-headedness and hysteria began to bend sharply in an undesirable direction. All that she'd been repressing came bubbling to the surface, to the point where she couldn't believe she hadn't walked away from Niko. He was the source of her constant confusion, yet she couldn't leave him alone.
The next thing Kate knew, she was swaying along the sidewalk, following Niko to the spot where he'd parked his car. In her drunken state, she realized that Niko could do anything to her. Slit my throat. Tie me up and throw me in the Humboldt River. Go on! Treat me like you treat the millions of gangsters you've cheated! But no, Niko wouldn't do that, because Niko liked her. Niko was a gentleman. Niko…
"I'm drunk," Kate moaned as she got into the car. Niko slid the key into the ignition. "Isn't that fun?" He didn't sound so sober himself, which fit right in with Kate's mood. Go ahead, crash your car! See if I care!
"Yeeeess, great fun," Kate cried. "Reminds me of being at a funeral." Except there hadn't even been alcohol at Francis' funeral, not unless Packie had stayed up drinking later that night. Some fucking Irish wake that turned out to be.
"Then why drink?" Niko asked, merging unsteadily into traffic.
As if he doesn't already know. Kate groped for the right words. "I don't know…" Because her father kept sending her brothers out to pick up beer whenever he ran dry. Because her mother occasionally sipped from a flask to "steady her nerves." Because her brothers had started coming home plastered to the walls, and after being exposed to it her whole childhood, it would have been strange had Kate not started drinking…
"Because my whole family does, and they're such a bunch of winners!" The words escaped Kate's mouth like water from a broken dam. "My mother, she's great! They haven't invented a tranquilizer strong enough, but if she combines them with whiskey, she can get to sleep!" Every night, stirring whiskey into her coffee and opening her latest supply of sleeping pills, insisting whenever Kate asked her that she was able to regulate the dosage, "don't worry about me…" Ma McReary, killing herself from the inside out.
"My dad- he did awful things to my brothers." Kate's voice was rising in both pitch and volume, but she was past the point of caring. "I loved him, but I knew, I fucking knew!"
Of course, she'd always known about the beatings. That had been no secret. Every McReary boy had taken more than his fair share. Kate had even seen her father smack Francis across the mouth for a derisive comment, long after Francis was well on his way to independence and putting to right the family legacy. But something different lurked beneath the surface of the beatings, something worse. Something that had made Packie terrified to sleep or shower alone. Something that urged him to create gruesome drawings. Something that made Gerry aggressively vigilant whenever he and Packie were in the same room as their father.
"And my brothers- look at them!" In an instant, Kate was choking back sobs. "Look at them!" Good ol' Derrick, who'd been held up as an example to them all, before he'd disgraced himself in Ireland and ended up shivering on his own in Middle Park, the heroin in his veins the only remaining light in his life. Clever Francis, who in becoming a policeman had fallen down the same path of corruption he'd claimed to have escaped, until a wrong move put him in the ground. Brave Gerald, who'd always been patient and caring with Kate and had explained to her things that most adults wouldn't… falling in with the wrong crowd time and time again until he received a sentence from which he'd never return. And Packie… Packie, who'd always been so fiercely protective of Kate, who one day was going to pick a fight that he could never win and die a meaningless death, all for a nonexistent scrap of honor.
All four brothers had withered under the iron fist of Pa McReary. Kate couldn't say she'd understood it back then, but she had known. She had always known, and yet… She had done nothing, because doing anything would be going against the grain. It would mean displeasing her father, and if he did that to her brothers, Kate didn't want to know what he could do to her. It would mean a world of pain, and Kate wasn't ready to hurt. And so her brothers had suffered, growing up to become hardened deathseekers, and now Derrick was a junkie and Francis was dead and Gerry was in jail and Packie was following him down the same road, all because Kate hadn't been able to make her father stop hurting them, or make them stop hurting each other…
"I can't take it anymore," Kate choked out, her words barely comprehensible. She slumped forward, covering her eyes with her hand, as a fresh round of sobs racked her body. By now, she was used to being a tearful drunk, but this time was different. This time, Kate wasn't sure if she could recover. The guilt washed in breakers around her, mingling with the insecurity and self-hatred that she'd been hiding from the world for so long. She'd wanted to believe that she was making progress, that therapy healed the wounds that time could not, but here she was, a child of eight watching her brothers hit each other, every single second of her life.
For a long time, Kate sensed nothing other than her wrenching sorrow and the tears streaking down her face, but then she perceived that the vehicle was slowing. "Hey," she heard Niko murmur, in a voice that was both disturbed and urgent. His hand pressed against her shoulder, and having no strength to shake it off, Kate allowed it to stay there. "Hey…"
Kate wanted to look up and find out what Niko wanted, but she felt so wretched that she remained in a disheveled heap, palm over her eyes. She had no desire to accept Niko, or to turn him away. His presence filled her with indifference. The car came to a gradual stop, whereupon Kate dimly heard the sound of a seatbelt unbuckling.
"Kate…" The rustle of fabric against leather reached Kate's ears as Niko shifted his weight. She felt rather than saw him loom closer, and was seized with a sudden fear. Please don't let him touch my shoulder again. I can't take it… She doubled up under another wave of sobs. Niko was here now with her, secure in a car on the side of the road, but he would leave her in the end, and she could do nothing to prevent that…
Niko didn't touch Kate's shoulder. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her. It was an awkward embrace, Niko leaning across the seats and Kate hindered by her seatbelt, but it surprised Kate so much that her sobbing ceased. She was acutely aware of Niko's gentle touch, of his rough fingers settling into the space where her neck met her spine. She trembled as he breathed a few words in her ear, and trivial though they were, the tenderness with which they were spoken floored Kate. "Hey. Don't cry. Okay?"
It was in that moment that Kate knew Niko was in love with her. He must have been for quite some time. She wanted to curse herself. I was too deluded… too blind... too deeply in denial to see that…
And as for herself?
She didn't want to admit it. Niko was yet another rough thug on the fast track to an early grave, the same as her brothers. He was one more person to worry about, to feel protective over, to grieve when he was eventually taken from her, either left to rot in jail or murdered in some back alley during a job gone wrong.
But as Niko held her, tightly and soundlessly and unselfishly, Kate felt the great wall that she'd built to defend herself slowly begin to crumble. She wanted to let Niko in. She wanted to accept him as part of her life, and for him to accept her as part of his. She wanted to always feel the way she felt now- comforted, protected, loved.
Was this what it felt like to love someone? To want to be with them despite knowing that she'd lose them at any moment? Kate had no idea. It wasn't as if she had much practice with this sort of thing. All she knew was that she'd never felt quite like this before- warm and content, yet terrified to the bone.
They sat there for only a couple of minutes, until Kate stopped shaking and Niko withdrew, but to Kate, it may well have been an eternity. She lifted her head to find that she recognized the street they'd parked on. They were only a few blocks from her house. Hesitantly, she looked over at Niko, unsure of what to say now that she'd shared an intimate part of herself.
As it turned out, she didn't need to say anything. Niko spoke first. "Are you going to be okay?" There was a softness in his voice, the likes of which Kate had never heard. Privately she marveled at how much better she felt, now that the barriers had eroded. Granted, she still felt like shit, but at least she didn't want to stab herself and Niko at the same time. To her, Niko had ceased to be a criminal. He was just another man, a man with feelings, feelings which Kate was almost positive she reciprocated. Almost. Almost.
"I feel better," Kate confessed, scrubbing at her eyes. The mirror wasn't angled her way, but she was sure that they'd turned red. Great. They'll know I was crying as soon as they see me. She was about to ask Niko to start the car again, but he stopped her, rummaging through his jacket's pockets. In no time, he unearthed a small package of tissues and handed them to Kate. Gratefully, Kate took them, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose before waving her hand to signal that it was time to leave.
"Thank you," she said quietly as the car pulled away.
"No problem," Niko insisted. "Don't mention it."
"No." Kate stared at the mirror above the dashboard, meeting Niko's eyes through his reflection. "Thank you for listening to me, Niko. Thank you for taking me out, for thinking of me, and for always being there." Her voice wavered as she spoke, but she held on, determined to let Niko know exactly how she felt. "You might not be a good man." Gently, Kate reached over and clutched Niko's leather-clad arm. "But you're a good friend, Niko Bellic."
Unlike the first time Kate had touched him, Niko didn't shake her off. He gave her a sidelong glance, and in his eyes, Kate saw nothing but light. He didn't seem offended that she hadn't claimed he was a good man. Well, he knows he isn't.
"You're a good friend too, Kate," Niko said. "One of my best in Liberty City."
Somehow, Kate knew that couldn't be true, but she wasn't going to argue. They sat in comfortable silence, until Niko parked outside the McReary abode. Kate started when the car stopped, unable to believe she was home already.
Her thoughts moved rapidly down a dangerously fantastical path. She could invite Niko in, and they'd stay up all night talking by the roaring fireplace. His presence might cheer her mother. Even Packie wouldn't be able to complain once he saw that his best friend Niko was the one keeping Kate up so late. Maybe inside, they could discuss their feelings in depth, and come to an agreement that worked for both of them.
But not tonight. Kate concluded reluctantly that she'd drunk too much to risk opening her heart again, even though the effects were starting to wear off. She didn't want to make any promises that she might not remember come morning. And Niko needed to get home.
"Are you going in, or staying out?" Niko murmured.
"In." Before she could talk herself out of it, Kate reached over to lightly squeeze Niko's hand, just once. She smiled broadly into Niko's startled eyes. "Thank you for everything, Niko. I'll see you around." With that, she removed herself from the car and staggered blindly up the front steps. She didn't hear Niko's car start until she had shut the door behind her.
Kate trailed down the hallway, following the one source of light ahead. In her half-drunken state, it was a long trek. Her head was throbbing, partly from the alcohol and partly from crying so hard. She tried to stifle a yawn with her hand, but it was no use. Weariness had seeped into her very soul.
At the end of the hallway, Kate walked into the brightly-lit kitchen. With her first step, she jolted. She wasn't alone. Packie sat beside the counter, a line of cocaine laid out before him like an offering. He'd dropped his straw the instant Kate had come in, and now stared at her with wide saucer eyes.
"Whoah, Katie! What are you doing back so l-" Packie's greeting bit the dust as he caught sight of Kate's swollen, tear-stained face. In seconds, his friendliness transitioned to rage. Kate nervously stepped back as Packie leapt up, hands already forming fists. "Did he hurt you?!"
To see Packie on the defensive, always playing for Kate's team, was more than Kate's fragile heart could handle. She broke again, her shoulders trembling as tears started in her eyes. She and Packie had only been born a year apart. Why was it that one of them should turn to a path of destruction, while the other never had to experience it? What had Packie done to deserve the abuse thrown at him throughout his life, and what had Kate done to miss out on it?
"I'm sorry…" Kate brokenly gasped. Exhaustion dragged her down. Seems like my whole life is about being sorry, in one way or another. Frankly, she was sick of it.
"Hey, hey, hey." Packie came forward, placing his hands on Kate's shoulders as if they belonged there. "Look at me. If you don't want to see Niko anymore, that's fine. You're not disappointing me or nothing-"
"No, no," Kate cut in, a touch amused despite herself. Somehow, Packie still thought that her friendship was Niko was all on his behalf. How could she explain that she hadn't shed a tear for Niko tonight, that she wept instead for what had become of Packie? Remembering how Niko had held her in the car, she decided that actions spoke louder than words. She threw herself at Packie, hugging him tightly.
"I'm sorry for you, Packie…" Through her subsiding sobs, Kate managed to get it out. "I love you…"
If there was a verbal response, Kate didn't hear it, but when Packie's arms snaked around her body, the gesture told her all she needed to know. Despite her tearfulness, Kate was astounded. She didn't think she and Packie had hugged each other since they were kids. After a moment she pulled away to meet Packie's eyes, half perplexed and half pissed.
"You gonna tell me what happened?" he said.
"Nothing happened." Kate wiped her eyes, letting out her breath in a long, shaky exhale. "I just…" She gave a tiny, self-conscious smile. "I don't say it enough."
Packie stared at Kate for a while as if he had no idea what to say, before finally nodding vaguely. "Love you too, Kate. I mean… you're a fuckin' weirdo, but I still love you." He moved back to the counter, where he'd abandoned his drugs. For once Kate didn't make a crack about the substances dusting the surface. Her heart felt oddly light. Finally, after the week I've had, some levity. She nodded back, turning to the door.
"Goodnight."
Upstairs, Kate sat at the edge of her bed as she undressed, mentally rewinding the events of the night and trying to process them. To her bewilderment- but not to her surprise, because somehow she'd always known- she couldn't stop thinking that she was more similar to Niko than she'd realized. Both she and Niko were beholden to past sufferings, which served as personal stumbling blocks. Niko had been taught to kill for his country, which he now extended to killing for profit, solely because he knew no other way of life. And Kate had learned to stay silent, turn a blind eye, and not interfere when her loved ones were in danger, in hopes of avoiding the same fate. Both of them had tried to defy the roles their authority figures had placed on them, but both had failed. Their experiences had molded them permanently, and no amount of therapy or revenge was going to change that.
Fine. Call me a hypocrite. Kate shook out her hair, her blouse fluttering to the bedroom floor. She'd never claimed to not be one. It had taken longer to realize her flaws, because Niko's way of coping was so diametrically opposed to her morality. Hit too close to home.
But there was still hope for the both of them. Kate believed with all her heart that Niko had it in him to change. And if he could change… well, maybe she could, too. She'd become a better person, for her own sake. It was only a question of whether she wanted to.
Kate slid her jeans off and pulled her nightgown over her head. She flopped onto her back and closed her eyes, taking in the familiar noise of traffic from outside her window. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring. Likely, it would be more of the same. Her mother would not-so-delicately hint about finding a male companion, her brothers would seek out new enemies to rip off and new ways to destroy their bodies, and Niko might call her up when he was done conducting business that Kate would rather not know about. All was to be expected, as it had been for years. There was no way to redirect the current of time. But the most effective changes often began gradually- and at last, Kate was ready to do her part.
