Rafe is driving God knows where. They have no idea where they're going, only that at some point, he'll have to stop, and they'll have to get off, and then, all hell breaks loose This might be the worst plan they've ever had on their track record, and the fact that Kathryn and Pope are the ones doing it is a little ironic, considering they're often the ones screaming about their stupid plans. But the situation didn't really call for rationality. Pope didn't think this through – he needs to get his family's Cross back.

Kathryn didn't want to lose another friend.

Dawn is rising when the truck slows down. They're somewhere on Goat Island, in the marshes where John B was bit by an alligator. Maybe it's stupid to think he might be putting the Cross back, but one can hope... or be idiotic.

She raises her eyes to Pope. "What do we do?" she rushes out.

He shakes his head. "Let's just... let's hide for now."

As Rafe backs up, the two climb down, scrambling over each other to hide behind one of those large trees. They press themselves against the bark, keeping out from view and tugging the other closer for support. God knows they need it right now.

He opens the truck. Kathryn expects the Cross, or something. Anything else but what he gets out. Rolled in a carpet, it's obvious that he drags a corpse across the mud and into the water. An alligator immediately starts his feast. Kathryn's hand flies to her mouth.

"Who is that?" she whispers at Pope.

Pope shakes his head. How should he know?

This isn't the first person Rafe has killed. If he killed them, though she doesn't doubt that at all. Hell, it's not even the first time Kathryn or Pope sees a dead body. Still, the view of the corpse catches them off guard, and she feels her stomach tighten, muscles lethargic, ready to throw up her lunch.

She doesn't know what goes on in Pope's brain. She can guess – she's been angry and vengeful all her life. She knows how it poisons someone, and she's been trying to get rid of it ever since. But when he springs out of their hiding place and rams into Rafe, she has trouble grasping what he's doing.

Pope is tired of sitting on the sidelines, watching everyone take everything from him and not doing anything. This is for the time at the golf course. This is for movie's night, for all the things Rafe has done. He isn't getting away with it this time – at least, Pope isn't letting him anymore.

All Kathryn can do, for all her spite, anger, fire, is watch as Rafe and Pope get into a fight. One of them is a killer, the other is one of her best friends, and all she can do is watch them roll in the mud, frozen in place, because Rafe is holding Pope like he did her, once, hands clasped around his throat. And she never could do anything when it came to Rafe Cameron, she always talked loud, but that was it. She had crossed out the fire from her life, and there was nothing to help her now. Not after she almost killed him. Not after he almost made her like him.

Except...

Kathryn has a kind of friendship different with each and everyone of the Pogues. It'd be too long to describe them all, and she doesn't have the time, but here's what it gets down to;

JJ and John B knew how to hold themselves, Kie had the loudest mouth Kathryn had ever seen, but Pope, he was soft. They knew to pick on him for it. But they would always get out of it with bite marks – she didn't know how to fight, she knew how to hurt.

Eventually they stopped, because Kathryn Darcy was always behind Pope Heyward.

She runs up to Rafe, and slams harshly against him, getting him off of Pope. When he's far enough, she hits him in the face as hard as she can. The skin of her knuckles crack, and blood spills from his nose. He reaches forward to retaliate, and Kathryn stands there for an awfully long second, wondering if he'll kill her.

There's a flash of recognition on Rafe's face when his eyes gloss over Kathryn. He lowers his fist as suddenly as he raised it. He isn't high, as far as she can tell, but she doesn't know if that's worse or better. Ice shards prick at her skin, and she can almost feel the blood rushing out of her. She's ready to bark like a bad dog if she can't bite.

Pope is wheezing on the floor, still not recovered from the anaphylactic shock, or the car crash. Kathryn's shoulder burns, too. Her entire body does, stifling her.

"Stay away from him!" she shrieks, voice shrill with fear.

Rafe stares at her, panting from his fight. A muscle rolls in his jaw, and she despises the softness in his eyes when he looks at her. "Stay out of this, Katy."

"Don't call me that!" Kathryn is standing over Pope, shielding her with her body – she has no use for it anyway – shaking in panic. "You want me to cave your face in like last time?" she spits out, defiant, everything she doesn't feel.

His eyes narrow at her, clearly remembering it. Kathryn doesn't budge, how could she? Pope is behind her. She hears him whisper her name, but she doesn't listen.

"What are you gonna do?" she goes on. "Kill us both? I know it wouldn't be your first time." There's no semblance of understanding, of emotion on his face. "Aren't you fucking tired of ruining our lives? Why won't you just eat shit and leave us be!" Did he ever?

How long can Kathryn remain that twelve years old that screamed at Rafe to let go?

She doesn't know why she still tries. She sees rage crowd his face the moment she reminds him of what he is; a monster. Rafe could never face the consequences of his actions. Neither could Kathryn.

"Leave, Kat, I'm warning you." He doesn't want to hurt her, and this paradox does it more than anything he could throw at her.

"The Cross is Pope's! Aren't you satisfied with your own shit? Do you need more money to burn buying drugs and paying out cops after you–"

She feels the blow on her left cheek before she realises that Rafe hit her in the face. Kathryn loses balance, and falls onto Pope. Her glasses go flying in the mud. For a second, she stays on the ground, back against the mud, holding her face.

She ruined Henry's jacket, too.

She can't move. Kathryn had never been a fighter, only a survivor. She fought because she had to, because she had no other way to survive. When she laid there, Rafe barely visible from where she was, Pope reaching for her, she wasn't even that. She was just a girl.

And Kathryn couldn't protect herself if she had someone else to help. It was always as easy as that. John B had clocked it not long after she came back. If she had someone else to save, Kathryn wouldn't hesitate in using herself as a weapon, as a human shield, a bargaining chip.

When Rafe walks away, to the truck, she doesn't ask why. Instead, she rolls on her front and shoves at Pope. "Leave," she whispers urgently.

Pope's eyes blow wide, his breathing finally mastered, maybe by the shock of her request. "I'm not leaving you here!" he cries out in the same tone.

There is not a less ideal place or time to leave Kathryn alone. With Rafe? Hell no.

"Yes, you are," she refutes. "Rafe definitely has a gun, we don't have time to argue, and we both know he won't kill me."

Pope wants to debate on that, he really does. He's angry at Rafe for stealing the Cross, more than he can bear. But he was always observant. He had been now. He had been at movie's night. He had been at the hangar. Rafe would hurt Kathryn, of course he would, it's what he does.

But in a twisted way, Rafe cared for her. He won't kill her. That made Kathryn angrier than the rest.

Still. "I can't let you–"

There's the sound of rustling. Rafe is coming back. They don't have much time, and Kathryn has to convince him to turn away and run. "You're not letting me, I'm forcing you. I'll just hold him off, give you long enough to get the others, okay?"

She grabs him by the shirt, hoists them up, and pushes him away, towards the tree line. "Kat–"

"Go."

Pope doesn't expect anything else. This is Kathryn. She's tough. She's the toughest out of all of them, arguably. And she's right, if he stays, Rafe could very well kill him, and how could Pope help her then? No, he has to go, and he doesn't expect Kathryn to ask him anything, because she never did.

"If... If anything happens. Not that I'm saying it will. But... Can you please tell JJ to come get me?"

The request is silly. Childish, almost. But Kathryn has never asked for help. She doesn't know how not to sound desperate. There is too little time to act like JJ isn't the only one who could save her from this. Rafe or herself, that, she isn't sure. She isn't above admitting that he already had, in more ways than one. And when it comes to Rafe, the only person she could let hold her was JJ. She needed him here. But she couldn't, not right now, so she had to make sure Pope would get him.

And he nods. Then, Kathryn has to push him again, but Pope runs and hides. She barely has time to collect her thoughts that Rafe comes back with a gun.

He aims it at her, but she doesn't move. He'd threatened her before. "Where is he?"

She doesn't answer, unsure if her voice will break. She won't bring Rafe the satisfaction of seeing her cry again. She swallows down the lump in her throat, and smiles, vindicated by her win. Pope is safe. JJ will come get her if something bad happens. And, for once, she's the one taking something away from Rafe.

"You can't have everything you want, Rafe."

Wrong thing to say. Poor choice of words. Kathryn sold her soul on that one, and she doesn't even know it yet, but the cogs in Rafe's brain are turning. Turning ownership into love, hurt into care. He can't have everything he wants, but he's had Kathryn.

That night, before he... They'd talked, and she'd understood. No one had done that before. No one had tried, and yes, she had been forced, she had been trying to play nice so that it wouldn't happen. But he'd had her, and he lost her. That always felt bitter in his throat. She had been his and she got away. But now, she is here... And he wonders if she'll play nice for him again.

He points his gun at her. "Get in the truck."

Kathryn's blood drains from her face. Her knees grow wobbly, heart hammering so hard in her chest she feels it at her neck. "What?" she breathes out.

The end of the gun is close to her forehead now. "Get. In the truck."

Kathryn was wrong. Rafe could have everything he wanted. And it just so happened that he wanted her. He had never stopped – Ward said that he didn't like her enough to play nice, but he still felt like he owned her enough to have her. Like a toy you keep fixing and breaking and fixing just to break again.

"No," she breathes out pointlessly.

The metal of the gun is cold against her skin. "Get in the truck, Kat!"

The scream makes her flinch, and she closes her eyes before any tear can escape. She doesn't want to see the appreciative look in his eyes at that. Rafe won't kill her, yes. But Pope needed time to run back to the Pogues. Time he could borrow from her.

She can't fathom how demeaning it feels, knowing Pope is watching, knowing that Rafe probably enjoys it – seeing her climb into the truck. Not the front seat, no, the back. With the Cross, just one more thing he's stolen. One more good to keep.

Pope watches, as Rafe locks the door, and Kathryn doesn't scream, or fight, because he's won. There was no need for it now, was there? Kathryn, who talks so loud, and screams, and bites and scratches, rendered speechless and emotionless, like a well-oiled robot doing its part. That was a sight Pope would never erase from his mind, no matter how much he wanted to.

As the truck drives off, taking from them again, Pope walks to the mud where they fought, and fishes for Kathryn's glasses. The lenses aren't cracked, thankfully. She would get them back. In fact, as soon as JJ knows what happened, he won't rest until he can perch them back on her nose. Pope shuts his eyes tightly. There's a conversation he doesn't want to have. JJ is hyperactive on a good day, but with Kathryn being taken, all bets are off. He might very well get that dynamite he talked about earlier.

They might very well not be able to stop him.

Kathryn only thinks about that as she sits in the back of the truck, legs tucked under her chin, tears kept neatly at bay, because she won't cry for Rafe again, she can't bring herself to. That no one will be able to stop JJ from getting her back. She turns the ring on her thumb, staring blindly at the Cross. She had wanted to see it up close. She had wanted to be strong, to be something again. To be JJ's. To keep Rafe away. But was there any use for that now? Here?

She twists the ring again. There was no friend to disagree with her now. Only herself. And Kathryn had never cared about who she could be, not enough to fight for it.

She would never be anything else but what he made of her, she's not sure why she kept pretending she could. She was always healing, but she would never be healed. Never be fixed. A blow, a single blow, rendered her speechless – and he pulled his strength, she knows this. Seeing him was enough to freeze her on the spot. She'd listened and climbed in the back of the truck like cattle when he asked. Just another thing for him to steal. Just another reminder that if he didn't own her soul, her body was his possession. She would never be enough to fight back against that.

Her forehead drops on her knees. She wished someone would disagree.

Author's Note: "Man how do I get Kat on the Coastal Venture? No way in Hell she'd willingly leave Henry behind.............." well the key word was "willingly"!