Chapter Text
Cat sighed heavily as she padded out into her living room. She was freshly showered and wearing jeans and one of Nathan’s flannel shirts. She raked her hands through her damp hair, shaking it out to help it dry. She was very glad to be home.
She smiled tiredly at Nick and Sturges, who had both stood up from the couch as she’d come into the room. Sturges handed her a cup of coffee, which she took with a grateful sigh.
The three of them sat on the couch, the men at each end and Cat in between them. She leaned her back against Sturges’ side and tucked her feet up. Cat sipped at her coffee then leaned her head back against his shoulder with another sigh, this one of contentment.
“What brings you up this way so soon, Nicky?” she asked him. She smiled and playfully nudged his leg with her toes. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but we’re still weeks away from being ready for our pleasure trip to beautiful Ground Zero.”
Nick gave her a small, brief smile. He was unusually restless, fidgeting with the closure on his leather satchel. “I, ah…little bit of unfinished business, Catherine.”
Cat’s eyebrows drew together slightly. “Oh?”
Nick opened his satchel and rummaged inside for a moment. “I took the liberty of keeping this, since you didn’t take it yourself. I’ve, ah…I’ve debated giving it to you. Wasn’t sure if you’d want it, or if it would just bring you bad memories, or what.”
He pulled a revolver out of his satchel. A very familiar revolver. He held it out to her.
When she made no move, Nick began to look slightly uncomfortable. “But I realized you oughtta be able to make your own choice about that.”
Cat leaned forward, swinging her feet down to the floor and setting her coffee on the table. She reached out and gently grasped Kellogg’s revolver, taking it from Nick’s hand. “Thank you, Nicky.” She turned wide eyes up to his. Her voice was soft. “Actually, I’m very glad you gave this to me.”
She flicked the cylinder open, confirming that the chambers were empty, then snapped it shut again. Then she abruptly stood, startling Nick and Sturges so it took them a moment to follow her as she went around the couch. She only stopped long enough to shove her feet into her boots before striding out the door.
They caught up with her across the street at Sturges’ house. Cat placed the revolver on top of his ad hoc anvil. She looked around the carport until she spotted his sledgehammer, which she hefted with a grunt, then turned back to the anvil.
Nick opened his mouth but whatever he’d been about to say was lost in the primal, throat-rending scream that Cat gave as she swung the sledgehammer down on the weapon that had killed her husband. He and Sturges both flinched and turned away, each lifting an arm to shield his face.
The first impact broke the revolver apart, but Cat wasn’t finished. She brought the hammer down three more times, screaming, before she was satisfied. Panting, she brought the sledgehammer back to its proper place, then gathered up the remains of Kellogg’s revolver. Blood trickled down her right cheek where shrapnel had cut her and she knuckled it away.
They followed silently behind her as she made her way down Sanctuary’s street and to the graveyard by the bridge. Cat smiled to herself as they passed the Long’s house. Angry, profanity-laced yelling and wet thuds could be heard from their backyard.
Cat kneeled down next to Nathan’s grave and gently placed the pieces of the revolver in front of his stone. She held out her hand without looking. Nick took it and helped her to her feet, then put his arms around her as she leaned in and hugged him tightly. After a moment she sighed and stepped away.
Cat folded her arms across her chest and looked up at him. “Thank you, Nicky. For helping me with all of this. For everything.”
One side of his mouth quirked up and he grunted a laugh. “I’d do damn near anything for you, kid, you know that.”
Cat smiled and nodded, wiping impatiently at the tears that tracked down her cheeks. She glanced at Sturges as he came up beside her, offering his silent support.
Nick sighed heavily and frowned, his gaze moving to the trees along the lake’s edge. “There is actually another piece of business that could use some finishing, Catherine. Can’t think of anyone I’d rather have at my side.”
Cat’s expression was puzzled, but she nodded. “Of course, Nicky. Whatever you need. Always.”
Nick sighed again and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it and dropped his lighter back into his pocket. Took a deep drag. Blew it out. Finally, he met Cat’s eyes.
“Eddie Winter is still alive.”