Chapter Text
Kim was convinced her heart would explode from her chest. She had never understood her father's inability to turn his fight-or-flight mode off until now, because if she hadn't been so naive to assume that everything would be fine, that after all the shit she had been through today, everything would be fine, she would have realised that something was off. Gary had killed the cop who had escorted her to collect her things from the Mathesons'. She was hiding in the attic, curled into a ball, praying that he wouldn't hear her breathing, her body trembling. She could hear his voice, eerily calm, as he told her that he had loved Carla and never wanted to hurt her, that everything was her fault. Her fault? God, was he that deranged? His voice sounded like it was right under her. If it was one thing she had learned about him today, it was that he was smarter than he looked, and more cunning and unpredictable than she ever could have envisioned.
There was a skateboard nearby, one of Megan's, that she carefully reached over to grab, retreating just as the hatch opened with a creak. It was now or never. If she didn't strike first, she didn't doubt he would kill her. If he could kill his wife, nearly kill his child, and kill anyone who stood in his way, then he definitely wouldn't have a problem killing the babysitter who had exposed him. Any remnant politeness or hesitation she had held in confronting him because he was her boss had gone out the window. She had to do this.
Gary's head came up, his hand fumbling for the light switch. In one swift motion, she swung the skateboard over his head with enough force that she was sure had snapped it, causing him to fall to the ground.
As Kim tried to stand to descend the ladder, the ground collapsed beneath her, and she landed on top of him. She coughed as particles of dust and drywall entered her airways. The mere thought of being close to him made her sick. She desperately backed away, afraid that he could hurt her, even unconscious. He and Carla had never disclosed their Gift status to her. It wasn't something that everyone liked to publicise, regardless of whether they had one or not, especially if their Gift could be used to help people, lest they be exploited. They hadn't asked about hers, she hadn't asked about theirs, and Megan was too young to show any signs that required her to know in regards to caring for her. But that lack of knowledge really disturbed her right now. Given how rash and violent he had proved to be, if there was any kind of divine property attached to that, she was royally screwed. She still didn't have her Gift. It was fifty-fifty, which parent's ancestor would bestow the Gift, and even then, it never manifested quite the same for each individual. It came to them in the way they needed it the most. She could do with that right now.
Her eyes fell to the pistol just out of Gary's reach. He would have shot her with that if she hadn't got the upper hand. He still wasn't moving. Maybe she had killed him. While that brought her solace in regards to her safety, she had just spent all damn day trying to prove that she hadn't murdered Carla or harmed Megan, so how was anybody going to believe her when a cop was dead, Gary was dead, and there were no witnesses? She needed help. She needed to tell someone who would undoubtedly believe her. With shaking fingers, her eyes still on Gary, she grabbed the weapon and called CTU. The bomb threat was over, right? Surely, her father could come get her. Needing him so much today and not being able to get to him, not that it had been his fault, had made her hate herelf for pushing him away.
A woman answered the phone, telling Kim her father was busy. Kim begged her to patch her through, keeping her voice low, every second of silence as she waited making her more anxious.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he finally said.
"I'm at the Mathesons' house." She took a shuddering breath. "Gary was here. He has a gun. He killed the officer that brought me here."
"Where is he now?"
Her voice shook as she explained, "He's unconscious. I knocked him out."
She could tell her father was worried, even though he sounded calm as he told her, "Okay, get out of the house."
Kim felt her knees buckle as she tried to stand. "What if I killed him?"
"It doesn't matter," he insisted. "Just get out of the house now."
The sight of Gary's fingers twitching and eyes blinking reminded her of a dying cockroach, tenacious in its fight to stay alive. She whimpered, shuffling back against the wall. Her father could obviously hear her distress, asking her what was going on, and instructed her to grab Gary's gun, which was still in her tense grip.
"Shoot him."
"What?"
Her father had taken her and her mother to a shooting range once. He had taught them how to use a gun. It had been before their separation, before her father had gone on the mission that had changed him irrevocably. She doubted she could remember much.
"Shoot him."
"I-I can't."
"I want you to point the gun at his chest and pull the trigger." His voice was strikingly cold. This wasn't her father: this was Agent Bauer. This was the side of him she had only seen glimpses of on the day her mother died and not since. "Shoot him."
As she went to tell him that she couldn't, she felt something hot in her other hand and looked to see a glowing spear. At first, she thought it was the Gift of Athena from her mother, just manifested differently. But then she noticed the colour of the aura around the objects. Athena's colour was olive green. This was a fiery brick red. She had taken her father's Gift: Ares, the god of war. As she acknowledged that, she became aware that her nerves had started to ease. She wasn't shaking or shrouding; she was channelling all of her strength and straightening her posture. She could feel the fire in her eyes, see the way her veins in her hands looked like they were molten lava. Determination rose within her.
She had to do this.
Gary had slowly sat up, and didn't even seem fazed by her weapons or changed appearance. He just scoffed, like he didn't think she would even try to make use of these powers.
"Kim, you little bitch," he uttered.
Everything seemed to happen so fast. She caught the anger in her body like a wave, and before she knew it, she had lunged forward and driven her spear straight through Gary's heart. It felt so easy, like piercing overcooked pasta with a fork. She was breathing heavily. Her sharpened teeth punctured the inside of her mouth. One of Ares' symbols was a dog. When people received the Gift from a god with an animal symbol, sometimes traits like fangs, wings, or talons could emerge. She pulled the spear out and stabbed him with it again, and again, oblivious that she had dropped the phone and her father had no idea what was going on.
When she came out of the furious haze, she became aware of the sound of her father's muffled yelling through the phone's speaker. She found herself unable to move for a moment, still hyperfocused on all the new sensations in her body, but eventually managed to pick up the phone, still looking at Gary. Blood poured from his wound, and the surrounding fabric had seared from the fire of the blade.
"Dad…" Kim uttered, her voice slightly deeper than usual.
"Kim, are you alright?" he asked desperately.
"He's dead. I killed him," she informed him, before explaining, "I-I got my Gift," sounding a little more like herself. "I killed him with my spear. Yours. Dad, the Gift came from you."
Kim couldn't stop staring at Gary's body with a sense of victory, not that of a killer, but of a warrior. She supposed there was no more denying it: she was her father's daughter.