( There are ways she understands the need to keep Noctis safe, the little offhand comments made when she and Marc were children about how Marc needed Kate's help to be a more social creature, how she was fearless and he was timid. Comments about you are the older one, Kat, even if it was only by a couple of months, that burrowed their way into her heart until they were held as absolute truth. She was the older one. The strong one. Marc was the kid with his head in books who just wanted to go to university from the second he understood what one was.
She thought that was all there was to it, if you replace the names and fudge the ages a little. But it isn't quite that simple. Every quiet word an added burden on the shoulders of a child, where it's no longer suggestions and makeshift family ideas, but an actual job. That he worked for Noctis isn't new, but the scope of how far back that work goes is.
Did he even have a chance to have other dreams? Other options? Whatever words spilled out of their parents' mouths, they came with added echoes - These are Kat's medals. She's already a great athlete. and C'mon, Kat, let's see if you can beat me now! - endless encouragement for things outside of being a good, protective sister.
It was never their parents' fault that her world boiled down to Marc eventually. That the fearless kid who talked to anyone disappeared and let the girl who shrugged off all attempts at friendship surface. How could it be? )
... Ah. ( A lacking answer to all that's been said, for sure, but words don't come easily at the best of times. The weight of everything he's just said weighs down anything else she might want to say, snatches it away like the wind snatches away breath outside of their hastily found protection. Her hand reaches for his without thinking, only to find air while they're threaded behind his back. Long neglected memories surface — the clammy atmosphere of a police station and the pitying eyes of an officer sat opposite her, trying to reassure her that they wouldn't be mean to Marc during questioning, that he'd be treated just as she was - with the advocate beside her as someone to lean on.
"I don't care. I promised I'd keep him safe."
The silence rings in her ears as her hand touches cool, clammy air, and the soft thud of her heart passes before Kate shifts closer, wrapping her arms around him. )
...You... ( It's hard to get out the words when they're the exact ones which would have made her younger self bristle and growl. Even now, the idea brings a stiffness to her spine. ) - can't protect anyone from everything. Not possible to.
( It would be nice to, ideal even, for people like them. But it isn't possible. Even in The Agency, Kate had to accept that. There were times Marc would be injured when she was there, times he'd be stuck in their hospital wing recuperating from a particularly bad mission, and she'd hate every moment. ) I tried. Failed at it.
( She sucks in a breath and pushes down the memories of Marc's blood spilling from his throat and the way the world seemed to slow to a stop, the hours of missing memories after the fact, her arms squeezing just that little bit tighter around Ignis as she does. )
Look. ...You're important to me. ( Understatement, but even those words feel strange on her tongue. It's a long, hard road to finding that sort of openness she had as a child when so much of her life was dedicated to erasing it. ) Not going to tell you to stop trying to keep him safe. Just... I spent a lot of time doin' that. Made me too tired to be there when he really needed me, and I failed.
suffers gently
She thought that was all there was to it, if you replace the names and fudge the ages a little. But it isn't quite that simple. Every quiet word an added burden on the shoulders of a child, where it's no longer suggestions and makeshift family ideas, but an actual job. That he worked for Noctis isn't new, but the scope of how far back that work goes is.
Did he even have a chance to have other dreams? Other options? Whatever words spilled out of their parents' mouths, they came with added echoes - These are Kat's medals. She's already a great athlete. and C'mon, Kat, let's see if you can beat me now! - endless encouragement for things outside of being a good, protective sister.
It was never their parents' fault that her world boiled down to Marc eventually. That the fearless kid who talked to anyone disappeared and let the girl who shrugged off all attempts at friendship surface. How could it be? )
... Ah. ( A lacking answer to all that's been said, for sure, but words don't come easily at the best of times. The weight of everything he's just said weighs down anything else she might want to say, snatches it away like the wind snatches away breath outside of their hastily found protection. Her hand reaches for his without thinking, only to find air while they're threaded behind his back. Long neglected memories surface — the clammy atmosphere of a police station and the pitying eyes of an officer sat opposite her, trying to reassure her that they wouldn't be mean to Marc during questioning, that he'd be treated just as she was - with the advocate beside her as someone to lean on.
"I don't care. I promised I'd keep him safe."
The silence rings in her ears as her hand touches cool, clammy air, and the soft thud of her heart passes before Kate shifts closer, wrapping her arms around him. )
...You... ( It's hard to get out the words when they're the exact ones which would have made her younger self bristle and growl. Even now, the idea brings a stiffness to her spine. ) - can't protect anyone from everything. Not possible to.
( It would be nice to, ideal even, for people like them. But it isn't possible. Even in The Agency, Kate had to accept that. There were times Marc would be injured when she was there, times he'd be stuck in their hospital wing recuperating from a particularly bad mission, and she'd hate every moment. ) I tried. Failed at it.
( She sucks in a breath and pushes down the memories of Marc's blood spilling from his throat and the way the world seemed to slow to a stop, the hours of missing memories after the fact, her arms squeezing just that little bit tighter around Ignis as she does. )
Look. ...You're important to me. ( Understatement, but even those words feel strange on her tongue. It's a long, hard road to finding that sort of openness she had as a child when so much of her life was dedicated to erasing it. ) Not going to tell you to stop trying to keep him safe. Just... I spent a lot of time doin' that. Made me too tired to be there when he really needed me, and I failed.