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Not for the first time, Indi brushes past the hall mirror without bothering to check her reflection. She still has her basic features, no doubt, who cares about the rest?
Oh.
Hmm.
He finds himself turning back, almost unintentionally, to the figure behind glass. That person is wearing a patchwork combination of clothes and styles that… actually isn’t really working on him. Huh. The jeans they used to shrug on without a second thought are frayed at all the hems, splitting at both knees. Multiple stains adorn this T-shirt.
“Alright there?” Kitty says, coming to stand behind Indi’s mirror-self. Had she always had almost a head on him? His face feels warm.
Indifference watches her reflection blush a soft pink and tries not to dwell on the fact that she can’t remember the last time anything elicited such a response from her.
“Earth to Indi?”
“What?”
“Are you okay? You look… Indi you look sad. ”
“Do I?” They assess the reflection - eyebrows furrow, corners of the mouth turn down. Huh.
“I do. That’s new.”
“Do you- do you feel sad?”
“I don’t know.” An internal assessment is entirely unhelpful. They feel different, yes, but what that means is anyone’s guess.
“I feel like my skin isn’t right. Maybe this is what they mean when they say ‘skin crawling’. And my chest feels wrong,” he adds.
Kitty frowns herself. “Uncomfortable?”
“I think so.” He’s still got half an eye on the Indi in the mirror. How long has it been since he brushed his hair?
After a moment, Kitty draws out: “Do… you want to come shopping with me?”
Indi laughs, “what?!”
“We could get you some new clothes.”
She looks at her reflection one more time, then nods.
-
Lilac gauze bunches in his fists. Thin straps provide little warmth or protection, the dress as a whole is impractical at best. But-
“What do you think of it?” calls Kitty from the other side of the door.
Indi’s breath catches, “I- I don’t know. I don’t know.”
The feeling of smooth fabric on their bare legs, the way their shoulders look in spaghetti straps. It feels… fragile.
Maybe that’s a good thing. Indi has never been fragile. Indi has never been anything but numb.
But at the same time, this amount of material around her feet is just a trip hazard, and she’d definitely get cold with how revealing the top is.
But then, maybe the impracticality of it all could be kind of - nice?
Slumping onto the little stool in the corner, Indi huffs, “I think this isn’t working, is what I think.”
“You’ve only tried on one thing, Indi.”
They eye the collection of outfits Kitty had helped pick out. “Fine.”
There are a pair of black jeans in there somewhere, with holes in the knees. Holes in the knees put there on purpose would be novel, at least.
The jeans look small, slimmer fitting than their last pair (though that isn’t exactly hard to achieve), but similar to the ones Kitty has. And Indi likes the way they look on Kitty, so maybe…
“Gods, Kitty, it’s like squeezing into a bloody sausage case!”
“Excuse me, what did you just say?!”
“Why do you put yourself through this? How do you move?”
“You found the skinny jeans, I take it. I move just fine, thank you very much, but there should be some looser trousers there too.”
Indi rifles through the stack, pulling out something labelled ‘boyfriend jeans’. Funny.
These fit more comfortably, and he finds himself drawn to a faded T-shirt with an incomprehensible design. The loose fit of the outfit makes Indi look even smaller, and the size of the shirt means most of his chest is hidden, which - internal assessment time - might be something he likes. He’ll have to check again later.
-
“You know, it’s kind of implied with my name and all, but I never cared about anything until a month ago. And there is. So. Much. To hate .”
The sentiment would be more impactful if he weren’t stuck halfway out of a button-down shirt.
“There must be things you like?”
In the privacy of the dressing room (and the shirt) Indi grins, “I can think of a few.”
They try again to pull material over their head, but to no avail.
“Kitty? I might need a hand here.”
She feels her way to the door to unlock it.
“Oh my Gods. How did you manage that?!”
“I didn’t do it deliberately!” they squawk, as Kitty starts to undo the tiny buttons. She finishes with the last one and pulls the material free, leaving Indi, shirtless, really quite close to her face now that there isn’t shirt in the way.
Kitty blinks.
Indi blinks. His heart is beating very hard.
Clearing her throat, Kitty moves away, hanging the shirt up and passing over a blue dress without looking back.
Indi wonders if this sinking feeling is what people call ‘disappointment’.
-
Somewhere around dress number four, or shirt number six, her eyes started stinging. The pressure of her newfound feelings, the weight of having to have an opinion on every fucking thing, crashes down all at once, manifesting with Indi’s backside hitting the ground, hard.
Fists bunch in her hair. She still hasn’t brushed it, and now she has a fucking opinion on that. What the fuck, Heir Apparent.
His nails are digging into his scalp. His face is wet. His eyes are closed. He feels - he feels bad .
Somewhere in all this, Indi registers someone on the floor next to him. Not close enough to overwhelm, but enough that he could reach out and hold her hand, if he wanted.
Trying to assess whether they want to brings on a wave of tears.
“Indi, Indi! Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s too much!” she bites out. “It’s just all too much.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know.” He sniffs hard, and Kitty hums sympathetically.
“Right, sorry. Okay, well, I have been told that it’s good to ‘talk about your feelings’ once in a while.”
“My feelings. ” She laughs bitterly (and wetly). “I have those now.”
“It must be… a lot.”
Indi groans and hides his face in his hands. His voice when he speaks is muffled: “That’s an understatement. I don’t like this, Kitty. It feels so wrong. It feels ! It shouldn’t feel anything, and more and more I have - feelings! Opinions! Multiple of them at once!”
“If it helps, I’ve never dealt well with that, either.” If she looked, Indi would probably see that little self-deprecating happy-sad smile Kitty gets.
“Yeah. It’s so confusing!” They lift their head to look at her now,
“How do you people get anything done when you’re busy having so many opinions on every single thing?!” They’re gesturing passionately by this point, and Kitty laughs, gently.
“I think a lot of people don’t. Personally, I’m a big fan of repression.”
“I noticed that. Guess you had to be, to work for Molly Marie for so long.”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“Do you want to talk about-?”
“Definitely not.”
“Right.” Indi waits anyway, drying her face with the back of her hand as Kitty seems to debate with herself. When she speaks, she sounds sure.
“I’m different now than I was before. It’s fine- it’s whatever. That isn’t news to anyone, except maybe Anna.”
Indi laughs softly. Kitty continues, “But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not supposed to be here anymore. Like I’ve overstayed my welcome or something. I don’t know,” she shakes her head, “the Kitty who came back isn’t the Kitty who died, but maybe that’s because people aren’t meant to come back. Oh- I’m not a person, anymore. That’s something to get used to.” She laughs unhappily.
“Kitty-”
“-It really is fine, Indi. It’s not- I just feel so out of control.”
Indi thinks back to the Kitty they knew a few months ago. She had been very self-determined, if nothing else. Slowly, they piece it together: “You’re upset because no one asked you what you wanted?”
“Oh my Gods.” Kitty laughs. “I am. I’m upset because no one asked me if I wanted to die, and no one asked me if I wanted to stay dead.”
“And now you’re different, and you didn’t get a say in whether you became a Major Arcana or not.”
“Yeah!”
“Hmm.” He sniffs again, but he’s stopped crying. “That sounds really difficult.”
“Thanks. It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“No, it isn’t. But since I’m here, alive, and different, and all Major Arcane, I’m going to make the most of it.” She sets her shoulders determinedly.
There’s another pause. Kitty inhales, then blows it all out in a rush.
“It can be really, really difficult. Having feelings. Just in general, even for people who’re used to them. Whatever you’re feeling right now is okay.”
“Surprisingly emotionally mature for someone who just had the fastest breakdown and resolution I’ve seen in centuries.”
“Hey, I did my time in therapy.”
“Clearly you’ve no issues left.”
“With you all around, I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Owch. I’m hurt, Investigator.” She places a hand on her chest for emphasis, “And here I thought we were growing on you.”
“ You are.”
They don’t think they imagined that emphasis on the first word.
“Glad to hear it.”
They fall silent again, until Kitty slaps both hands onto her knees, standing.
“Right! I am determined to find you at least one outfit that makes you feel at least mildly okay! I’ll settle for that.”
-
They’re in the lilac dress again, head cocked to one side, deliberating. At Kitty's suggestion, they've paired it with a new leather jacket and Kitty's own Doc Martens ("just to see what it could look like!") Kitty is behind them, brushing through knots in their hair in preparation for plaiting it back (to see what that looks like with the outfit). Like this, her eyes and Indi's are almost level.
He can see her right behind him in the mirror. Feel the warmth she radiates, even now.
Indi turns their head, just a little, to meet her gaze. Kitty’s hands still, then continue, gently brushing.
Indi feels slightly sick. Kitty watches from inches away. Her shallow breaths hit their face.
They haven’t - wanted anyone - for hundreds of years. They’ve been indifferent , of course they haven’t.
But while there are a lot of things he still hasn’t worked out,
“I think,” Indi whispers, still not breaking eye contact. He couldn’t if he wanted to. “I think I would like you to kiss me.”
Kitty beams, only for a second before reaching around to take their hand, gently, so gently and bring it to her own waist. She holds it there, brushing hair away from Indi’s face with the other. He’s not sure what to do with his right hand, but settles for resting it on her side.
“Are you sure?” Kitty asks.
“Not about much else, but I’m sure I want to kiss you.”
“Okay.”
It’s weird. It’s nice, but it’s also an intensely weird sensation. This kind of contact with a person is something they’ve never had before. Kitty is clearly trying to take things slow, holding their head loosely, not even kissing with much pressure. Treating them like they’re something precious and fragile. It sort of makes Indi want to cry.
“ Gods , what is it?” Kitty sounds- worried?
She’s pulled away, let go entirely, because (and hey, at least he can tick ‘mortification’ off the list of emotions he’s experienced now) hot tears are dripping down Indi’s face. Probably some got in Kitty’s mouth.
“ Fuck. ” Their breath hitches on the vowel sound.
“Indi, are you okay? Wait, obviously not, but-”
“I’m okay, I’m-” They sniff loudly. “I’m mostly okay. Two seconds.”
It’s only after they’ve wiped their eyes on the sleeve that they remember that this jacket isn’t the one they came in wearing. At least that means they’re definitely buying something .
“Bloody Hells. Sorry about that.”
Kitty has slid down the wall again so she’s sitting in the corner. Somewhere Indi notes that this is probably an attempt to give her space without leaving her alone, and she doesn’t know what to make of the gratitude that rises with that realisation as she sits next to her.
“Do you want to-” Kitty starts. “Can we talk about that, please?”
“I think I’d like to forget that ever happened, actually.”
“Tough. What’s wrong?”
She looks confused when he laughs.
“Nothing. Genuinely nothing. You’re just being so gentle. It’s new for me.”
The emotions that flash across Kitty’s face would be hard to decipher for anyone, let alone someone feeling feelings for the first time in centuries. Indi thinks she looks sympathetic, and maybe angry, though they’re not sure why she would be.
“I like it, though.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Next time I promise not to start crying.”
“There’s going to be a next time?”
“If you want.”
“I-” she laughs softly, “I think I’d like that very much.”
Indi hums, “me too.” Then they shift, taking Kitty’s face in their hands, “next time could be now.”
She laughs and leans in.
-
Leaving the shop, Indi carries in a bag: the lilac dress, two faded oversized shirts, and a pair of soft black trousers. They wore the jeans and new jacket outside. The old jacket finds itself draped around Kitty’s shoulders. The old jeans find themselves in a bin around the corner. Their left hand finds itself held in Kitty’s right, and Indi’s mouth wants to smile.