Gabe and Kathryn
By Birdie

Birdie was standing outside an apartment building on a chilly October morning. It was early morning and the sun had been up for only an hour. Birdie leaned against her car- a red 1998 Ford Mustang GT convertible - taking a drag on a cigarette. Birdie wore a white tank top and a long blue floral printed shirt. You could see her tattoos clearly on her shoulder. One of a bird in flight, and the other was a brand of a Pagan cross (a somewhat lesser known sign of the devil). Her long auburn hair glowed in the morning light and her emerald eyes sparkled. She took one last puff of the cigarette and let it fall to the ground. She squashed it into the ground with her foot. She was thinking about her past. Her past long ago, almost another life time in the past. She stared off into space and in her mind's-eye she could see it all happen.

***

Birdie was walking along the street in Brooklyn on a warm spring day. The sun was shining and there were newsies all around hawking the headlines for the day. Birdie wore a long brown skirt and a gray shirt - traditional for the times, and a pocket watch was attached to her waist. It was 1901, she loved New York. Especially Brooklyn, since she and Spot Conlon were dating. She was going to get her morning paper - like always - from Spot. Just then she heard shouting coming from down the street. She immediately picked up her pace, almost running, she moved through the crowd of newsies shouting.

"Come on Spot, you can do it" were several of the shouts Birdie heard. "Get him Spot, get him" was another.

Birdie watched the two boys fight for a few seconds. It was Spot Conlon, her boyfriend, and Mac, from Queens. Spot's cane and slingshot were lying on the ground far from Spot's reach. Both boys were fighting it out. Each threw some punches and blocked others. It looked like Spot was winning, of course. Just then, Mac pulled out a knife and plunged it into Spot's chest; and just as quickly as he'd shoved it in, he yanked it back out. Spot was sprawled on the ground; blood was oozing out of his chest. Mac just stood there, watching, laughing.

Birdie's eyes had grown wide by this time. She couldn't believe it. She ran to Spot's side. Spot looked into her eyes and whispered "I... love... you" in his last seconds of breath. Birdie could tell it pained him to speak. She just held him until he stopped moving. Tears welled in her eyes, she held them back. She looked up at Mac, a deadly look on her face. Birdie lay Spot on the ground and stood up. Spot's blood had stained her clothing. The knife was laying on the ground next to her, she grabbed it. Mac's eyes widened and he ran. Birdie ran after him.

After a few minutes, Mac found himself in a dark alley. Little did he know Birdie was waiting for him. She knew he'd go there, they had been very close friends once, ONCE. Mac walked farther into the alley, a dead end alley. What a perfect name for the alley, dead end. Birdie came out of the shadows and shoved the knife deep into Mac's stomach, she twisted it a few times, then pulled it out. She stabbed him again, and again in different places on his torso. Just to make sure he was dead. Mac lay on the filthy ground in a puddle of his own blood. Birdie was no idiot. She wiped off the finger prints on the knife and put Mac's hand on it. Getting as many of his fingerprints on it as she could. Then she dropped it on the ground next to him. She stood for a few seconds and reveled in her kill. She suddenly felt a sharp pain in her left arm. She ignored it and stealthily ran out of the alley. The newsies would have a good headline tomorrow, "Newsie Brutally Killed: Gang Tactics Suspected" perhaps would be the embellished version.

She ran back to where Spot's body was. None of the newsies had dared to touch it. They all knew she'd killed Mac, but they had no proof. Only a motive, and her personality. She had a very short temper and was quick to take action on it. Birdie knelt beside Spot and brushed his matted dirty blond hair from his face. She longed to she his blue - gray eyes sparkle again. He was so suave and handsome when he was alive. Now, just a shell in a pool of blood that looked like her Spot Conlon. She motioned for a few of the newsies to come pick him up. The promptly did and she picked up his cane and slingshot. Birdie led them to the morgue.

***

A few days later Spot's funeral was held. All the newsies from New York, and the strike, had come to the funeral. The mortician asked Birdie to do the eulogy, but she declined and Jack did it. All the newsies did cry, everyone except Birdie. Ironically, she was the one who had lost the most, and she was the only one not crying.

At the cemetery, Spot's coffin was lowered into the ground and the dirt was placed over it. Most of the newsies tossed either coins or some flowers they'd picked on the way onto Spot's grave. Birdie had picked up three beautiful purple Irises. Spot and her favorite flower. Three to symbolize the number of years they'd been together, ever since the strike. Birdie was the last to leave the funeral. She just stood there staring at the gravestone for hours after the service. When the sun was setting, she finally left and went back to Queens, her home.

***

Birdie stayed in her room for weeks. She didn't want to see anyone, not even read a paper. All she had left of Spot was his cane, his slingshot, and her love for him. She would never love again. Everyone tried to get her out of her room, nothing helped. They had enough trouble just getting her to eat the food they brought her. Even her brother, Jack, couldn't help.

Eventually, about three months later, Birdie left her room and went down to the river. She stood there for hours. Remembering how she and Spot used to stand there and stare out into the black water below. She just stood there; it began to rain; she didn't budge. She watched the rain drops make little ripples on the water. She was remembering Spot's face, his sly smirk, his blue - gray eyes, the way they sparkled in the sun. A tear streamed down her face, she brushed it away and went back to her room. The last bit of emotion she would ever show.

Birdie worked at the same office she had years before. She had been working there for a long time. She worked there for many more years. As her brother and the other newsies aged with time, she began to notice that she didn't. Jack, who was an executive at the New York Sun (thanks to Bryan Denton), was worried about her. He couldn't understand why she wasn't aging like the rest of them. Several more years past, Jack was a grandfather. Birdie began to look more like his granddaughter than his sister.

Finally Birdie left New York. It was after the Depression. Just before the Great War. Birdie moved out right smack in the middle of the country. No way could she get involved in that infernal war. A few years later Birdie figured it out. Why she hadn't been aging, why she had this brand on her shoulder. It was because of that damned amulet. The one she used to revive Spot back in Manhattan all those years before. The damned thing was from the devil. She had used it only briefly to save Spot's life. Then years later she'd brutally killed Mac. Signed; sealed; delivered. When she killed Mac, her soul became the property of Satan. She still had the amulet. She looked into it and found an inscription in ancient language. She could read it somehow, probably because she belonged to the devil now. It read "use the amulet and then the blood of another is painted on your hands and in your soul, you belong to me." She figured it meant that if she used the amulet, which she did, and if she killed anybody, which she did, her soul was the devil's, which it was.

Figuring out how to avoid being the devil's forever wasn't real high on her priority list though. Of course she didn't want to be controlled all her life, but nothing had happened that would make her want to die yet. She had no chance of seeing Spot again, whether she was alive or not. She decided just to live it out and see what happens. That's all she could do. The devil was her master and would be for all time.

Birdie decided to move again. This time she moved to the nation's capital, Washington D.C. She decided that she'd better live in a surrounding city. She moved to Virginia and enrolled in school there. She was 19 by looks, 119 by age. She had enrolled as a junior in high school and found a part time job at a supermarket. Not too bad considering all that she's been through.

^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^

Birdie was leaning against her car. Another car drove past, snapping her out of her daze. She shook her head and got into her car. She drove to school and parked in the parking lot. Next she walked to the front office to pick up her schedule. School had been in session for about a month. She carried her bag, a square bag - just large enough for school books - that had one strap, on her trek from the school lot. She picked up her schedule and looked for her first class. She began to wonder why the hell she'd enrolled in school in the first place. Then she thought to herself "to get a cushy job, that's why."

Birdie found her first class, English, fun. The teacher introduced her as Kathryn. Birdie didn't want to be called Birdie anymore. It was far too painful. Kathryn pretty much kept to herself the whole day. Her next class was math, boring as ever, then science, not quite as dull. Her last class happened to be chorus. "Wonderful" she thought. She loved to sing, even though she didn't get much pleasure out of it anymore. She walked in with her transcript and presented it to the teacher, who asked which part she sang. Kathryn replied "any of them." The teacher decided to put her with the 2nd Sopranos, the middle octave I suppose you could say.

Kathryn received her music and a folder to keep it in. It turned out the class was having auditions for solos today. Kathryn decided she may as well sign up and try her luck. Some of the other girls who auditioned were very good. Others weren't quite as good. Kathryn had signed up last, so she could hear how the song went. The teacher was surprised to see Kathryn's name up, after all, she was "the new girl." The teacher called her up and Kathryn sang the song. She had the most beautiful voice in the world. The best range of all the others in the class. She could sing the lowest notes a human could hear, or a glass shattering high note on perfect pitch for as long as you wanted. Everyone in the class was blown away by her voice. It was so beautiful and so was she. The boys in the class were very taken by her. Kathryn was chosen to sing the solo - as an actual solo - at the next competition, and every time the song was sung.

***

A few days later Kathryn had several suitors. They all wanted to take her to a dance called Homecoming. Kathryn didn't want to go to any social gathering, nor did she want a date with anyone. She still loved Spot with all her heart. She turned every single one of the guys down, one imparticularly she wanted to hurt.

The football captain. The cockiest guy in the whole school. Sure he was good looking, sure he was the captain of the football team, sure every girl in the school would kill to date him, but Kathryn wanted nothing to do with him.

"Hey Kaitie" the football captain yelled across the parking lot.

Kathryn spun around and looked at him with fire in her eyes. He had sufficiently gotten her attention. James, that was his name, came up to her. "Don't ever call me Kaitie again" Kathryn said sternly.

"Oh, come on Kaitie. You're very lucky today" James said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Kathryn cringed. The other girls in the parking lot swooned.

Kathryn rolled her eyes, she decided to humor him. "And why is that?" she asked in a I-don't-really-care-but-I'll-bet-you're-going-to-tell-me-anyway tone of voice.

"I've chosen you to accompany me to the Homecoming Dance" James said matter-of- factly.

"Oh, really. Well, I have some news for you" Kathryn started.

"And what's that?" Kathryn forgot her grammar for a minute. "I ain't goin nowheres wit ya. Now get off a me" she yelled as she shoved him away from her.

This angered James. No girl had ever turned him down before. "Oh, yes you are" he said angrily. He grabbed her arm.

"Oh, no I ain't" Kathryn retorted. James let go of her arm and backhanded her across the face. Kathryn's eyes burned with anger. She would've killed him right there, had it not been for that infernal amulet. The damn thing had ruined her life, it had prolonged it. She looked back into James' eyes, they were angry as well. Kathryn held his eyes for a long time. Taunting him to hit her again. He almost did. "Come on James. What're ya waitin fer? Hit me, come on, hit me."

"All right, you asked for it." James raised his hand to hit her again. Kathryn smirked. Just as his hand was about to fly, Kathryn grabbed it and flung him over her shoulders onto the ground. He landed with a hard "THUD!" All the female spectators came running, to see if he was all right. Kathryn just stood there and watched him, smiling.

Then she said "Never, ever, ever cross me again. You hear that? Never." Kathryn walked off to her car and drove away. She was so angry at James. She had to try so hard to control her temper. She didn't want to lash out at him and lose her chance at Heaven. Kathryn turned on the radio and drove home.

***

Kathryn walked up the stairs to her apartment. She entered her apartment and set her bag down on the counter. Then she fixed herself a mug of tea to calm down. She was still very angry with James. If she was her old self, she would have either soaked him real well, or killed him. Depending on how mad she was at him at the time. Kathryn drank her tea and sat down on the couch.

Her apartment was rather dull, two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. There weren't many decorations up either, after all, she would be leaving again soon anyway. She didn't like to stay in one place too long. In her bedroom was a single bed, a dresser, and a night table. On the night table was an alarm clock and the amulet. In her living room was a couch, a radio, a television and VCR, and a table. On the table was a picture of her and Spot, they looked so happy in that picture. In a drawer of the table was the newspaper from the strike, the one with the picture of the boys. Every once and a while she'd pull it out and read it. She was very careful with it though; it was her last link to Spot, save her memory and the picture.

Kathryn picked up the picture and looked at herself in it. She thought to herself "I look so happy in this picture. I wonder what would have happened if I had stopped Mac that day. I should have stopped him, it's my fault Spot died. I knew Mac was going to pull that knife, but Mac got his just reward." Kathryn smiled at that last part. The first time she had really smiled since before Spot died. It felt good to smile again. Kathryn decided that she would be her old self again, she would be Birdie. Everyone would still call her Kathryn of course, but she would act like Birdie. This made her smile again.

She set the picture back down and went to fix herself some dinner. She ate dinner and then she went to a video store. She rented a video names NEWSIES. She'd heard about it a few years earlier and now she decided to finally see it. She brought it home and began to watch it. It was well done. She actually enjoyed it. She found it interesting that one of the characters was Spot Conlon, her Spot Conlon. The actor who played him bore a striking resemblance to the real Spot Conlon. The actor had long brownish hair and very blue eyes. Her Spot had dirty blond hair and blue - gray eyes. How interesting that they chose that actor. The newsies in the movie won the strike though, that was the only thing in the movie Kathryn didn't really like. They had lost the strike in 1899, not won it. I suppose Hollywood needed a happy ending though.

After Kathryn was finished watching the movie, she rewound it and went to bed. The first time in many years. Kathryn didn't sleep often. It seemed like every time she shut her eyes she saw Spot murdered again, and again, and again. So she stopped sleeping all together. She decided to sleep because she was in a good mood and had come to terms with Spot's death, finally.

***

Gabe sat straight up in bed, he was sweating. He looked around his room, nothing, only darkness. He clicked on a lamp and blinked at the sudden light. He had just had a very intense dream. He tried to make sense of it. First he had seen a boy that looked very much like him stabbed in a fight. Then he saw a girl rush to his side, then the girl ran after the kid who'd stabbed the first guy. He saw the girl murder the second guy and fix it so it looked like suicide. All the people in the dream were wearing very old fashioned clothing. The girl wore a long skirt, and all the boys seemed to be wearing suspenders and newsboy hats. Next he saw a girl leaning against a red car. She was wearing a blue floral print skirt and a white tank top. He could see two tattoos on her shoulder. One of a bird and the other of something he figured to be some sort of cross from a weird religion. The girl looked just like the other girl, who had killed that one guy. She was beautiful, she had green eyes and long auburn hair. That was a pleasant sight in the dream. Then Gabe saw fire and lightening surround the girl. As if they were protecting her from something, the girl didn't seem to notice. Gabe was engulfed in the flames and then he suddenly woke up. Gabe couldn't make sense of what the images meant, only what they were. He was very confused.

***

The next morning Kathryn awoke early. She'd only slept about three hours, she wasn't used to sleeping any more. She went to school as usual and everyone left her alone that day. They'd all heard of what she'd done to James, he deserved it. Kathryn just kept to herself for the next for weeks. She was somewhat happier, but she was still a little quiet. No one really noticed, they were all afraid of her. Kathryn kept mainly to he same routine - go to school, stay for a while, go home, eat dinner, sleep for a few hours, then start over again.

Then one day she heard about the play. Every spring her school put on a musical. The students acted and sang in it. Kathryn thought it might be fun to try out, so she did. She didn't really know, or didn't care, what the musical was. It turned out to be Les Misérables. A wonderful story with wonderful songs. Kathryn got the part of Fantine, the leading lady. Mainly because of her voice. Kathryn stayed every day while they rehearsed and got ready for the play. She found it a lot of fun, and she actually preferred as little sleep as possible.

A few months later it was opening night. All the other students were nervous as anything, not Kathryn. She found it all rather dull. It was only a simple performance for an auditorium full of people. Not that big a deal to her. She'd been in much more stressful situations, just look at the strike.

On the last day of the play, about two hours before the play started, all the cast members and techies gathered in a place called Green Room. Green Room is where everyone gives gifts to members of his or her crew or just jokes around with them. The theater teacher, Mrs. Armee, was talking first.

"I'd like to thank every one of you for helping put on the play this year. So far we've had a fabulous turn out. Every one I've spoken to about it has loved it. You all have done a wonderful job and I congratulate you all on your success" Mrs. Armee said. She continued talking for about ten more minutes, babbling about how good every one was doing. Then she finally handed the "stage" over to the stage manager.

"I think Mrs. Armee did a sufficient job in congratulating you all. I'd just like to add one more thing, let's give it up for the cast!" Everyone started clapping and cheering. "Now let's give it up for the techies!" Again the room exploded with cheers. "Okay, okay. Now, why don't we hear a short speech from our leading lady. Kathryn, come on up here." The stage manager motioned for her to go up there. She stood up and walked up to him.

"Uh, thanks everyone. I don't have a gift or anything for anyone. I wouldn't have any money to buy one anyway." A few laughs circulated the room. "Well, um, all I have for you all is a song I wrote. I was going to sing it at the cast party, but this seems as good a time as ever." Everyone in the room became silent and listened. Kathryn sang and walked around the room. Her song was about the jokes and mess-ups off several of the crew and cast members. Sort of a tribute to their efforts. She would stand next to one while she sang about him, and next to another while she sang about him. She poked fun at most of the crew members especially, several of the cast too. They all had a good laugh.

Soon it was time for the cast to get ready. Several others had spoken after Kathryn finished her song. They had great fun in Green Room. Kathryn really enjoyed the theater department. The play went on a short time later. A few things went wrong, but no one in the audience seemed to really notice.

The play was a big success. The audience adored it all three nights it was put on. The last night after the play all the cast went out to the lobby to find friends and family. Kathryn did the same, even though she had no one who'd be there. She went out there anyway, why not? She mingled among the people, being congratulated by complete strangers at every turn. Kathryn was still acting though. She had a happy smile on her face, completely different from what she felt inside. Inside she longed for Spot to have seen her in the play, she still missed him so much.

Kathryn was still mingling when she suddenly stopped short. That's when she saw him. A guy with long brownish hair and blue eyes. Kathryn just stood there staring at him. The boy had noticed her a few minutes earlier. He was shocked when he first saw her. He had a strong feeling of déjà vu, he had seen her somewhere before. Then it came to him - his dream!

Her long auburn hair was pulled into a messy bun, she wore a long white skirt and a white tank top with spaghetti straps. She was still in her last stage costume. The boy could see her tattoos clearly, the same ones he'd seen months before. He finally understood why he'd come to see the play.

Both just stood staring at each other. Kathryn couldn't believe it, it was Spot. He had come to see the play! Kathryn began to walk towards him, people blocked her path. She walked around them. She got to the place he had been standing, he was gone. Kathryn looked around frantically. "Where is he? Where'd he go?" she thought to herself as she turned every which way looking for him. Then one of the other cast members came up to her.

"Hey, Kathryn. That was some performance you did tonight" she began. Then she noticed Kathryn really wasn't paying much attention to her. "Kathryn, are you all right?" she asked.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry Bev, what were you saying?" Kathryn replied, finally she stopped looking for the boy.

"I said that was some performance you did tonight. I think it was the best of all tonight."

"Thanks Bev. I really appreciate that, really" Kathryn replied politely. Bev turned and went to congratulate several of the other actors. Kathryn sighed and went backstage. She was anxious to get home now.

***

A few days later, on Monday at school, everyone was still talking about the play. In every class she had everyone was congratulating Kathryn on a job well done. Apparently she'd acted very well. Everyone seemed to like her performance. Kathryn was melancholy though, she couldn't figure out who that boy was. He did bare a resemblance to Spot, but he wasn't. From a distance he looked like Spot, but she thought about the two images - the boy at the play and Spot. They didn't quite match up. There were subtle differences, but she noticed them.

"Hey Kaitie!" James called.

Kathryn snapped out of her trance. "I told you not to call me that James" she said as he came up to her.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened when you first got here. It's just that you're the most beautiful girl in the school, and I have to date the girl with that title" James explained.

Kathryn frowned. "Really? Well, I'm not dating you now or ever. So you can save your breath and leave me alone" Kathryn said angrily.

"Yeah, but..." James started.

"No!" Kathryn interrupted. "Now leave me alone." Kathryn walked off and James shoved his hands in his pockets and did the same.

"I hate that girl" James said to his friends down the hall.

"Then why do you keep trying to "win" her affection?" one of his friends asked.

James shot him an evil look. "Because she's the most beautiful girl in school, that makes her the best. And don't I deserve the best?" James said.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, of course" they all replied, not wanting to get pounded. James was really getting on their nerves. He was getting cockier by the day. He was no more the friends they'd once thought him to be. He was a real jerk.

James was losing more and more friend throughout the year. By the end of the year he would have no friends, save himself. Of course he could talk to that one friend, in a mental institution.

A week later Kathryn was walking around the school after school was over. She had stayed to finish up an assignment for one of her classes. She had finished it about five minutes earlier and had to stop by the office quickly to pick something up. She did so and went to sit on a bench outside in the front lobby.

She was arranging papers in her bag when he walked in. She didn't see him walk in. He watched her fiddle with her papers, her back was turned towards him. Her long hair was pulled across her neck and hung down by her face. Her skirt complemented her slender figure, and her shirt showed off her tattoos and figure quite well. He could see those same tattoos - the bird he could see clearly, the cross was obscured a little. He stood there and watched her for several minutes. Then she dropped her papers all over the floor, she bent to pick them up. He walked over to help her pick them up.

"Oh, dang it" Kathryn said under her breath.

"Here, let me help" the boy said.

"Thank you, thank you very much" Kathryn said, still not looking up.

After they had successfully gathered all the papers, the boy handed his bunch to Kathryn. She stood up and finally looked at her helper. Kathryn gasped. It was the boy from the play.

"You're very welcome" the boy said.

"It's you" Kathryn said astonished.

"Yeah, I was surprised when I saw you at the play that night" the boy replied. "Can I ask you a question?" he said.

"Sure" Kathryn answered, not sure what was going on.

"Who are you? I mean, I've seen you everywhere. In my dreams, at the play, and now here. You seem so familiar, but I can't place you. Not really anyway" he said.

"Kathryn Kelly, but my friends back home used to call me Birdie" Kathryn replied.

"Birdie!?" the boy said surprised. "Now I know where I saw you."

Kathryn ignored his last statement. "Now it's my turn. Who are you?" Kathryn asked.

"Oh, right. My name's Gabe Damon" Gabe answered.

Kathryn looked into his eyes. "No, that's not your name" she said slowly.

"That's the one my mother gave me" Gabe said.

"One of them anyhow. You're Spot, Spot Conlon" Kathryn said.

"No, I'm not. I played him in a movie I did, but that's not who I am. My name's Gabe" he tried to convince her.

"I know that, but your real name is Spot Conlon. Just not from this life. You said a minute ago you know where you saw me before, where was that?" Kathryn asked.

"In a dream a long time ago. I don't remember ever dreaming it really, but I remember seeing you in it and not me" Gabe replied.

"That's because it's not a dream, it's a memory."

"A what!?!" Gabe asked in shock.

"A memory. The reason you didn't see yourself, was because it was from your point of view. A memory Spot, a memory" Kathryn explained.

Gabe looked confused for a few seconds, then he seemed to understand. "A memory." he said. Gabe raised his hand and brushed his fingers across Kathryn's cheek and stared into her emerald eyes. They sparkled like emeralds for the first time in almost a century. Kathryn just stared back into Gabe's blue, blue eyes. "Yes Birdie, a memory. I remember it all."

Kathryn smiled and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Gabe wiped it away and leaned in and kissed her. They kissed for a long time. (And why not? They haven't seen each other in 96 years, give them a break.)

"I knew you would remember Spot, I knew you would" Kathryn said after they had stopped kissing.

Gabe just looked back at Kathryn and helped her with her belongings. Kathryn picked up her bag and stuffed her papers in it, and they walked to Kathryn's car.

***

As they were walking, Gabe asked "Can I tell you something else?"

"Sure, anything you want" she replied.

"Well, a few weeks ago, I was living at my house out west. Then I had this dream one night. The dream was about a girl, you, and a boy, me, but I could see myself, not in a mirror or anything. Like I was an observer. I saw two boys fighting, one was me I guess. Then the other boy pulled out a knife and..." At that, Kathryn dropped everything she was carrying. "Are you all right?" Gabe asked.

"Yes, just fine. Skip the dream part, please. Get to the point" Kathryn replied quickly.

"Are you sure?" Kathryn nodded. "Well, the next day I had this strange feeling. I was reading this paper and I saw an advertisement for Les Misérables. I decided to go see it, but I wanted to see it live rather than in a movie theater. Then I had this thought, I should go to Virginia for a while. Then later I bought a plane ticket and last week I flew in here. I'm very glad that happened, if I hadn't acted on that feeling, I never would have seen you again" Gabe continued.

"I'm glad too, but I think it's my fault that you're here." Gabe looked confused. "Well, I've been missing you an awful lot lately and I've been having a recurring dream, that dream. Spot and I were real close the first time he was alive. I guess it transferred with his soul" Kathryn said.

Gabe was confused, but he shrugged it off and they both got into Kathryn's car. Then they drove off into the sunset, to be married and live together forever.

***

Kathryn's curse had been lifted the second she kissed Gabe, now she could live a natural life, she could die within a certain amount of years. Kathryn was very glad she was aging again. Sure it was nice to stay young forever, but after living 118 years or more, you get kind of bored with it.



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