au: mary and kat
for: @gensrps
If Sakamoto wanted to play executioner, Kat deigned themselves the judge, and Sakamoto had gone too fucking far.
The thing was that no one knew that Sakamoto brought a knife. That wasn’t part of the plan. When the girl brandished it from thin air, Kat felt their mouth unknot from its impassive line, their jaw slackening in disbelief. They’ve seen her with a knife and they’ve seen what she could do with it, but they’ve never seen her lose her composure, giving into the smoldering fury without her knees buckling. Kat stiffened with alertness, deafened and blinded to anything that wasn’t the outline of her body, the lines of her arms raising the knife and driving it into Lefebvre. They don’t give a fuck about him — a coward who liked to murder girls, made old-fashioned decapitation seem merciful — but they gave a fuck about blowing this place after Kat fulfilled their side of the arrangement. They gave a fuck about not following this sentence with a life sentence, not having to see their sister through a thick pane of bulletproof glass.
Adrenaline sliced through Kat’s veins like a bullet, their senses caught on the wrong end of the barrel. Without thinking, Kat tore from where they lingered on the fringes, killing the distance between themselves and Sakamoto. A swift and painless death as they latched an arm around her waist from behind, using their free hand to catch her wrist before she could land another strike on Lefebvre. The harsh lights overhead flashed off the blade clenched in her fist, suspended in midair, crimson drooling from the tip. A DNA match to the blood seeping through Cecil Lefebvre’s clothes, the red splatter clinging to Mary’s skin, the drop that melted onto the white nose of Kat’s Chuck Taylors. Their chest swelled against Mary’s back with a serrated inhale as they tightened their grip on her waist. “You’re done,” Kat repeated, muttering it into her hair, hauling her off her feet. They obscured her view of Lefebvre, whirling with her in their arms to face concrete walls. “He’s good as dead anyway,” they said louder, words minced from their gritted teeth. “Let it go, Mary.”
❛ kat, don’t ——— ❜ touch me, talk to me, stop me. all of those options want to come out at once, fighting to know which is going to claim first place. it’s a battle that gets stuck on her tongue, a battle that’s both begging to happen and desperate to not. she just fought hers, hands crimson warm and throat burning from war cries that resonated in the room a second ago. it was the only thing she’d been able to hear, drowning out any of cecil’s pleas. and the team’s protest, if they were any. she couldn’t let anything distract her, not until she was done. she forgot, however, that she could be interrupted.
she tries to get their arms off, but her fingers slip the first time it tries to grab at a wrist. and it makes her realize ; her hands are slippery, shaking. dripping. now, kat’s hand is as well.
——— there is blood on their hand now as well. and this is the sight that makes her stop, the sight that makes her wish she could go back in her craze to not see a thing again. they have blood on their hand. they should’ve been left untouched, unscathed, innocent. it only dawns on her right now, that there’s not a world in which they would’ve been left out of it. because there’s not a world in which she doesn’t see cecil’s death through. there’s not a world in which she lets him walk free.
mary shouldn’t be angry. her frustration, grief, anger, exhaustion, everything she’s been feeling for the past months, all should’ve had gotten out. she shouldn’t be angry, she shouldn’t be anything, doesn’t have a right to. but kat’s words spark a new wave of . . . something. she can’t name it, but it gives her the strength to break free from the hold, not without grunts. ❛ let it go ?! ❜ she doesn’t turn around to look at kat, or anyone. did they not see for themselves her inability to let any of it go ? instead, she leaves, without looking back. and she never leaves a room messier than what it was before, so it’s safe to say she’s the bigger mess taking itself out. wipes the remaining blood on herself, better have a ruined uniform than feeling the taunt of droplets sliding down her skin.
