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2024-09-17
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what doesn't kill you makes you paranoid

Summary:

Kate Molloy's childhood had been a unique experience. Unlike other kids, she had an adult best friend who whispered into her mind, planting unseemly thoughts and ideas there that Kate couldn't resist trying and who simply vanished from her life one day.

Decades later, she comes face-to-face with a friend she'd deemed imaginary and it turns out that he's her father's new boyfriend.

Notes:

Title is from the beaches song of the same name!

Work Text:

Katie Molloy is just like other kids.

She loves going to the park and playing until her knees are skinned. She’ll choose sugar over substance any day, and can eat until her stomach aches. She’s a New York City child, which means she knows what it’s like to be bundled to school in taxis, because her parents are too busy to drop her off while still being too worried to let her walk alone.

She’s got a big imagination, but even that’s no surprise. She's the daughter of a renowned writer. Of course her imagination is a wild thing, an untamed horse refusing to be corralled.

And, just like other kids, Katie’s got a best friend who’s always around, even if the way he talks to her isn’t exactly like anyone else – what with it mostly being in her head, but that’s just because he’s special, not because he’s imaginary.

What do you think would happen to those ants if you turned your glasses on them? he asks, when they’re at the park one day.

Katie tips her head to the side, prying her glasses off, studying the sun, and then the little ants crawling up their sandy home. “Won’t that hurt them?” she asks warily. She’s six, and she’s still learning how the world works. The feelings and emotions of ants are a new subject to her.

They’re ants. They’re beneath you. You step on them every day. Why is this different?

Well, when he puts it like that, it makes sense, doesn’t it? She angles her glasses and watches as the sun magnifies the ground below until one of the little ants begins to burn. It did hurt them, but then, if she’s stepping on them all the time, is it really any different?

There. Isn’t that satisfying?

It is. It’s like playing with dolls, only they wiggle and writhe around. They keep moving, though, maybe a little singed, but they’re still moving. If they do, then how badly could she really have hurt them?

“Thanks Almond,” Katie says as she goes back to humming, kicking her legs as she watches the little ants scuttle around, using her glasses to direct them the way that she wants them to go, coaxed on by the controlling ideas of Almond, her very best friend.

She’s luckier than most girls, she figures, because not everyone has a friend like she does. It’s something that she shares with her parents, because she wants to brag about it as loud as she can.

“Almond, huh?” Dad says with a scoff. He’s ignoring Lenore again, while Mom tries to sedate the crying baby. “Does Almond have an imaginary pet dog named Pecan?”

“He’s not imaginary, Dad,” Katie huffs.

“Right,” Dad drawls, giving her an amused look as he ruffles her hair and messes it up, but his affection is short-lived as ever before his attention drifts back to Mom. “Hey, uh, Alice, I think I’m gonna go chase down some more leads for the story tonight. You good to watch the girls?”

Katie watches carefully. Mom’s face stays even, but there’s a little twitch in her lips and her forehead. The last time she told Almond about that, he’d noted that it must be difficult to love someone who’s always one foot out the door.

Katie hadn’t understood, but what she does know, even now, is that Mom won’t be able to stop Dad from going out.

“I’m gonna go read in my room,” Katie announces hurriedly when it seems like they’re going to fight before Dad goes out.

She barely makes it under her covers when the bickering starts. She’s not sure if it’s better or worse when Dad shouts that he’s staying out all night, followed by the door slamming. It’s only when the dust settles that Katie pops up from underneath the covers, focusing on her book now that she’s got some peace and quiet.

And where is your father going tonight?

Katie barely looks up from her book, glancing up to where Almond is sitting in the corner of the room. “Dunno,” she says. “Mom always complains to Auntie Janice that he’s out gall…” She frowns, not sure what the word she’d used was. “Last time he came home, Mommy kept yelling about him being at a bar all night and asking who he was with.”

Really. Well, perhaps I’ll investigate.

Katie barely glances away. She looks down to turn the page of her book, and by the time she looks up again, Almond is gone.

He’s a constant companion and a steady friend. He gives Katie her worst ideas and inspires her very best.

Years later, she’s eight. Almond is still her steady companion. He helps with her homework, even if he’s really only useful when it comes to history and her French class. He vanishes sometimes, usually when Dad heads out for his ‘interviews’ (and even though she’s only eight, Katie’s starting to understand what that means).

She’s in the kitchen cutting up apples after school for herself because Dad’s somewhere and Mom hasn’t come back from work. Lenore is still with the sitter, but Katie’s alone.

Well, not alone.

What do you think it would feel like if you pressed the tip of that knife into your skin?

“Won’t that make me bleed?”

Almond is conspicuously silent. He’s done this before. Sometimes, when Katie’s on the edge and doesn’t know what to do or think, he’ll make a suggestion and then go absolutely quiet, letting her be the one to topple over when she makes the decision, even though he’d pushed her right up to the last possible step. Eyeing the knife, then her arm, she can’t help but wonder what it would feel like. Would it sting? Or maybe it would just be a dull little poke?

Then, most exciting of all, a last thought – what if it feels good?

That thrilling little idea is why Katie takes the knife away from the apple, staring at her skin. No one’s home. She doesn’t even remember the moment she makes the decision, all she remembers is the yelp she lets out when the knife knicks skin and blood rivulets start pouring over her forearm.

“It hurt,” she whines, accusing Almond when it had been her choice in the end.

He’s silent. When she looks up to see what he has to say about all of this, he’s gone and she’s left alone to press cool paper towels to the wound, bandaging it with five different band aids before she gets it to stick.

Why had he made her do that? Why had she decided to do it anyway? Why hadn’t she just ignored him?

She spends the afternoon sulking, lost in questions, and hopes that she can get away with it. Unfortunately for her, even when Dad is distracted, he’s still really good at his job (something Mom always yells at him when they’re fighting, always really upset about it).

He notices within minutes of getting home.

“Hey, Katie-bug, what happened to your arm?” Dad asks distractedly, pouring himself one of his big drinks from the liquor shelf.

Katie glances down at the bandage, staring at him as she wonders what she’s supposed to say.

Not the truth, Almond whispers. Tell him it was an accident.

“It was an accident,” she says, almost before Almond’s even done giving her the suggestion. “I was cutting an apple. I slipped.”

She’s not sure if it’s good or bad that Dad barely pays attention. He’s wandering out of the room, nose already in a notebook, ruffling her hair as he passes. “Don’t do it again. Don’t wanna have to turn this into a post-Eden household.”

She doesn’t understand the joke, but then, does Katie care? She’d gotten away with it, and he isn’t mad. When she returns to her room, Almond is waiting in the corner, looking immensely proud.

Is he proud of her? He never says. Katie never asks. She forgets why she’d been mad at him. It’s just a little cut, and now she knows that a knife hurts. She’s learned her lesson and now she can move on.

Is your father going out again tonight?

“I didn’t ask,” Katie says, too relieved with getting away with her little injury. She probably won’t have the same luck with Mom, but there are long-sleeved shirts she can wear to cover up the evidence. “Maybe?”

Then, she hears the door closing and the familiar echo of silence. She’s alone again, truly so, because when she glances back to find Almond, he’s gone too.

She tries not to feel abandoned. She pokes at her wound. She debates if doing something else interesting would get Almond’s attention back, but then she remembers how he’d abandoned her when the pain struck, and decides it’s safest to get lost in a book until Mom and Lenore come home.

It’s funny how things always seem easier to think about when Almond’s gone. It’s a thought that comes swiftly and leaves just as quick, as Katie loses herself in her latest novel.

Years later, they move away from California. She changes schools. Every place they go, she keeps looking for Almond, but he’s never there. He’s not in the crooks and corners of her new school, and he’s not there at night when she’s reading a book. He stops suggesting things for her to try, and he stops asking her to check on Dad and using her as a source of information.

Slowly, Katie begins to forget that he’d ever been there.

Eventually, he fades from her memory and she begins to wonder if he’d even been there. Maybe he’d only ever been a product of her overactive imagination. Maybe, all this time, he’d been nothing more than a coping mechanism.

That’s the last time that Katie Molloy thinks of Almond for decades.

And yet, his influence on the Molloy family is far from over.


It’s been decades since Kate went by Katie. Decades since she’d heard that little voice in her head. In her early twenties, Kate had gone to therapy to try and put some context around what she’d experienced as a child.

“Are you afraid that it had all been imaginary?” her therapist has asked. “Or that it wasn’t?”

Kate doesn’t like to entertain either option.

On the one hand, if Almond had been imaginary, then some part of herself had nudged her to harm others and herself. Some dark and twisted part of her had existed and had manifested in an imaginary friend who seemed harmless and helpful.

On the other hand, if he had been real, then he’d been some fucked up adult who had hung around a child for years. For what? Even now, peeling back the trauma of her childhood (which had a lot to do with her parents, their divorce, and her father’s general shittiness), she can’t see what “Almond” gained by using Kate as his eyes and ears.

Now that she’s in her early forties, she’s past that doubt. She feels steadier, and she’s starting to lean more towards the second option – some asshole had decided he was bored or maybe he’d been one of her father’s superfans who decided to use his daughter to get close to him.

After all, how many times did Kate have to intervene when Daniel had started using again? How many times had Almond nudged her to check on him?

It feels like thinking about him is the reason why her father enters her life again (and oh, how little she knows about how true that thought had been).

“Kate. Listen, I’m back in New York and I want to get drinks. Neutral ground,” Daniel says in the message. “Somewhere near Central Park, one drink maximum. I’m not trying to get back into your life, but I want you to see that I’m okay, and I want you to meet my new boyfriend, seeing as I’m pretty sure the media is about to start writing a lot of stories. I already met with Lenore.”

This is a very bad idea. She should say no, book another therapy appointment, and move on.

The thing is, her curiosity has always been one of her biggest strengths and downfalls at the same time, and Daniel said boyfriend. She’d always known that Daniel swung both ways, even if it took her about a decade to actually process that information, but according to Mom, none of the guys from his past had ever been serious.

The fact that Daniel wants to introduce her to him means that this guy has apparently broken past the commitment phobia. Her curiosity is the only reason she texts back her agreement, waiting for the pin to drop with details of when and where they’ll meet.

In the days leading up to it, Kate starts picturing the guy.

Maybe he’s a dignified balding college professor who’s in love with Daniel’s writing and those feelings extended to the author himself. Maybe he’s some young club-rat past his prime that Daniel had fished out for a story and then fell for.

She comes up with a thousand possible imaginary boyfriends.

What she’s not expecting when she arrives is to find that the only imaginary man in this situation is one she thought she’d stopped seeing three decades ago. “What the fuck?” Kate exhales, when she catches sight of Daniel and his boyfriend sipping martinis at the high-tops near the bar.

She’s going crazy. Oh god, she’s really lost her mind.

“Katie, baby!” Daniel calls over, denying her an exit.

She feels drawn in, like the tractor beam on the Death Star’s got her in its trap. There, sitting beside Daniel and staring at her with a familiar set of orange eyes, is a phantom she hasn’t seen since Mom divorced Dad and moved them away from California.

What the fuck? What the fuck.

I see you take after your father’s talented use of language, whispers a voice in her mind that she hasn’t heard for decades.

“Kate, hey,” Daniel says, like she isn’t about to have a nervous breakdown. “I want you to meet Armand.”

“This is your new boyfriend?”

“Look, I know he’s young, but…”

She doesn’t even bother gracefully easing into it. No, this is something she’s attacking head-on. “Forget being young! Your new boyfriend stalked me through my childhood,” Kate hisses, frantic with too many emotions that she doesn’t know how to process. “He was in my head. He convinced me to do awful things.” He’d made her question if she was truly rotten to the core, if she was a good person, and now he’s here? Staring at Daniel like a fond boyfriend? So special to her father that he’d reached out past the icy cold freeze of their relationship to introduce them? “Why hasn’t he aged? Oh god, I’m crazy,” is a broken admission.

“Kate. Katie, no,” Daniel says, grabbing hold of her shoulders to steady her. “Look. I found out what Armand did when you were a kid. We had words about it, but I wanted you to meet him because he’s special to me. And besides, he’s…”

She eyes him dubiously, because it looks like he’s winding up to say ‘sorry’, but given the smug look on Armand’s face, she doesn’t buy that.

It’s a good thing Daniel doesn’t finish that thought.

“Come on, please just have a drink. I want to start things on the right foot.”

Kate isn’t sure she wants to go any closer. She’s eyeing Armand warily, because she knows just how dangerous he can be. Truthfully, there’s a part of her that wants desperately to run away, and then she doesn’t have to think about why Daniel’s reaching out, why his eyes look strange, why he’s so full of energy.

(He’s on drugs again, he must be, he’s going to end up in another gutter and Kate’s going to have to fish him out because she’s the one who’s closest)

He’s well, you know. I’m taking great care of him.

Kate wants to slam her hands over her ears like that’ll keep him out. It’s childish, but then again, having your imaginary friend come back to haunt you feels like she’s allowed to relive her childhood. “I can’t hear you!”

“Armand,” Daniel chides.

“I was simply dabbling in the familiar.”

“You were dabbling in being a son of a bitch,” she lashes out, because she feels like she’s standing on the edge of a cliff and one word from him and she might just jump to see what it feels like to fly.

Amazing, she imagines, right up until the hard contact of the ground.

She’s about to tell them both that she’s met him, and so she’s leaving, but she doesn’t get the chance. Just like always, Daniel pulls a selfish twist where his shit matters more than everything else in the world when his phone rings and instead of ignoring it for them, he decides that it’s more important.

(Fuck, she really is going to need another therapy session this week.)

“Shit,” Daniel says. “I gotta take this. Try not to tear each other apart.”

Kate eyes Armand, wondering if Daniel intends that literally and if so, then which of them is the greatest threat to the other. She waits until Daniel wanders outside, shouting at someone on the phone (which means it’s either his agent or one of his ex-wives), and that leaves Kate with Armand.

“You haven’t aged,” she says, proud of the way her voice stays even. Calm, almost, if you didn’t hear the rage and fear quaking just beneath her words. “I’m guessing this isn’t some Korean skincare trend.”

“No,” he agrees, his manicured nails tapping the table as he studies her, smiling like he’s equally fascinated, proud and annoyed by her.

She doesn’t want him to regard her at all.

“You speak to me in my head,” she adds heatedly, more of a hiss than anything. “You made me burn ants. You made me cut myself until I bled. You …”

“Helped you get revenge on school bullies,” Armand cuts her off to take over when her anger begins to win, fury infiltrating her voice. “Doctored teachers’ minds that were going to fail you for your distraction. Ensured that you were never in the sort of trouble that would follow you home.”

That’s all true. It hadn’t all been horror. Some of it had been downright domestic.

“Why?” she demands, even if she already suspects.

When Armand (Almond through her childhood because he’d never corrected her, like a fucking nutjob) hadn’t been coaxing Kate into the hobbies of a young serial killer, he’d whispered for her to check on her father, keep him happy, keep him safe. Even her own security and safety had little to do with her and more to do with Daniel, she’s sure.

You always were clever. I’m glad your teachers eventually agreed, whispers that familiar voice in her mind.

She gives him a steely stare as she wordlessly conveys a very strong ‘stay the fuck out’. Maybe she needs to meditate more, if that’s what’ll keep her safe from the mental invasion.

“So what happens now?” she asks, eyeing Daniel as he paces, cautious that he’s not about to return and interrupt this little reunion. “What changed? You’re done using me as an intermediary? Or is this you making me think I’m crazy again because you can’t watch after my father on your own and you want me to run your little errands for you again. What happens if he finds another wife? What happens if he leaves you?” She shouldn’t be baiting Armand like this, not when she knows the darkness in his heart. “I’m not like you. I’ve only got so many years left and I’m not wasting them chasing down my father.”

“There’s no need for that. I assure you, Daniel is my problem now. I simply wanted you to be aware of that.”

She’s not sure what to do with that. She hasn’t wanted her father in her life for some time now, but an immortal demon (or whatever he is) taking control?

It’s not much better.

Then again: “Do I have a choice?”

Armand smiles in a terrifyingly familiar way. “Dear Katie,” he says, in the same tone that used to whisper through her mind. The voice that had once been her dearest friend. The same voice that made her feel special, but now sends icy chills down her spine. “No.”

And what’s she supposed to say to that? She doesn’t want to argue, but it still feels like she’s been slapped in the face with the icy equivalent of a glacial Antarctic sheet.

That’s when Daniel finally returns. “How are we doing? Everyone still alive?”

“You already know the answer to that,” Armand says pleasantly, but Kate is paralyzed like a fly in the spider’s trap. She doesn’t want a relationship with her father. She doesn’t want to take care of him, and yet, having Armand resurface and show what he is behind the mask has frozen her in place and started pulling her back into this fucked up family.

She can feel her father’s inquisitive gaze on her, sharper than ever, like a burning brand on her skin, and she fights to shake herself loose.

“We’re fine,” she says bluntly, as if that’ll convince herself.

“Great!” Daniel blithely announces, clapping his hands together. Either he doesn’t notice the tension or he’s willfully ignoring it, but either way, he starts talking about his latest goddamn project instead of making things right for the years where Kate had felt like she was breaking apart.

It’s just one more reminder why she doesn’t want anything to do with him.

She endures this happy family reunion. She keeps her rage in check when Armand dotingly strokes Daniel’s arm, and pointedly thinks loudly about all the times Armand had gone chasing after Daniel throughout the eighties and how desperate it had been.

In turn, Armand simply tugs Daniel closer, nearly in his lap at one point.

To everyone else at the bar, it’s a sickeningly sweet picture – if you find sugar daddies and their babies adorable – but to Kate, it’s a goddamn power move.

“There,” she says, when Daniel finishes paying for drinks. “I met him. Consider my social duty done.” It looks like Daniel is about to launch into some guilt-trip speech, so Kate stands quickly, grabbing her things. “I’m glad you have someone. I’m glad you seem happy. You even seem more energetic. I still don’t want to be in your life. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

“Katie…”

She shakes her head. “Go be happy. He clearly wants to make sure you are. I was just the intermediary. He stalked me to get to you. It’s always been you. So go enjoy being fucked up with someone who’s just as crazy as you are.”

At least, for once, some poor unsuspecting normal person will be left out of the Daniel Molloy drama.

She’s a block away when she feels a familiar whispered voice in her mind. Armand, again, because he can’t leave well enough alone. Kate’s betting that Daniel’s sad or something and Armand is trying to fix it for him. Will we see you again for dinner next week?

“Stay the fuck out of my head,” she snaps aloud, earning herself a couple of ‘there’s a crazy lady’ stares, but it’s New York. This is basically normal behavior. She recognizes, now, the scratch against her brain that means Armand is trying to work his way in.

Fine, then.

If he’s so determined to be a part of Daniel’s life again, then he can have him. Kate hasn’t wanted to touch the disaster that is her father in years, and knowing that his boyfriend had waged psychological terror on her throughout her childhood only solidifies the thought that’s been circling her mind.

Maybe it’s time for a move.

This is the straw on the proverbial camel’s back that has Kate looking at jobs in Europe again, something she hasn’t done in months. She needs distance from Daniel and this whole fucked up relationship. It’s a good opportunity for her to get away. It’s a great way to advance her career. It’s the break that she needs, and sure, it’s a little painful at first, but it’ll pay off, she figures.

It’s exactly what she needs.

It gets her away from Daniel and Armand, and gives them all the privacy they need to play happy family. It works beautifully for everyone involved.

It works out perfectly – almost too much so.

Which is why, for years, she’ll always wonder – was it her decision to go? Or had it been the soft whispers of another voice, trailing off into silence until she made the decision that he’d wanted all along.

Fly off the edge and feel the wind rushing through your hair.

Feel the adrenaline and never think about the concrete pavement down below.

Get pushed to the edge and pretend it’s your choice when you leap without looking.

Regardless of who made her take the last step, she’s flying now. It’s just a question of how long it’ll be before gravity kicks in and drags her down to earth and the reality that she’s been running from – the same one that’s haunted her for years.

Katie Molloy has got a not-so-imaginary friend who won’t leave her alone, and one day, he’s going to push her a little too hard and she’s not entirely sure she’ll survive that fall, whenever it comes.