My fault my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault
The words ran through Rafferty's head for days. There were other thoughts sometimes, but even then the words were there, running through the back of her mind like the rhythm section of the world's most depressing band.
Katrin is dead. She's DEAD, Rafferty. She's gone and she's never coming back. Because you wanted to win a stupid game. Because you wanted to WIN a GAME.
Rafferty had come off the second rock as hard as she could, diving as fast as she could, but couldn't get there in time to make contact with Katrin. She hit the ground hard, tearing herself open in several places. Rafferty had picked herself up off the ground, turning to check on Katrin, and in that moment she had tried to make a deal.
If Katrin was alive, if she could be just barely alive, Rafferty would get her home. She would get her home, and they could fix her, even if she was mangled and broken. And after that, after Katrin was fixed, Rafferty would never stop. She would never retire. She would keep fighting Gods until the day she died. They could send into the most dangerous situations, and she wouldn't complain. They could give her guard duty and she wouldn't complain. She would volunteer for guard duty.
But the offer had not been accepted.
Why? Why did you jump? How could you not know that Katrin would follow? She doesn't even like to be second in line for lunch. How could you possibly think she would just give up and let you win?
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No. Not DOESN'T like to be second for lunch. DIDN'T like to be second for lunch. Because Katrin's never going to have lunch again, is she Rafferty? Or hunt a God, or tell a joke, or kiss a guy, or come to your room and ask if you want to break some rules. She's never going to do anything, ever again, because of you, you stupid, useless bitch.
Rafferty had walked back into the Abbey without saying anything. Someone, she couldn't remember who, had greeted her and asked where Katrin was. Rafferty had just kept walking toward Max's office.
When she tried to tell him, no words came out, and she started to sob instead. Max had come over and hugged her, and asked only enough questions so he could tell the Jacks what to do, and let her go.
Becka had taken Rafferty by the arm, and helped her back to her room, where she had remained for the last three days.
I didn't even have the guts to tell Seth and Brianna. I guess they must know by now. Everyone must know. I'm sorry, Seth. I'm sorry, Brianna. I'm sorry, Katrin, oh GOD Katrin, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Sheridan had sat on the bed with her for a while, and tried to ask what happened. Rafferty thought she probably wanted to construct an argument that proved it wasn't her fault. That would be a very Sheridan way to help.
Cody had come in, apologizing that the last thing she had ever said to Katrin had involved the phrase "stupid bitch," and ended up crying more than Rafferty.
Rafferty had tried to talk to them, but it was hard. She laid on her bed, and the whole world was a vise. Her temples ached like they were being squeezed, and so did the muscles around her mouth. Rafferty had to strain to open her mouth, and when she did, the best she could do was croak out a word or two in voice she didn't recognize.
Trevor came each day with food, which she refused. He forced her to drink a little water, but otherwise let it go. Rafferty was pretty sure he was sitting outside her room the rest of the time.
She slept a lot, but the dreams were no good at all. When she woke, the grip of the grief was still there, like it was waiting for her.
And the band played on.
My fault my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault my fault