Title: Sweet Dreams, Kathryn (Revisited)

Rating: PG-13

Author: Tempest

Email: [email protected]

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters recognizable from the movie 'Cruel Intentions', and if I don't own the characters I guess it goes without saying that I don't own the rights to the movie. It is copyright to its respective owner. I also don't own the song "Bittersweet Symphony". The Verve owns it. I make no money off this works. I do it purely for entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's notes: This is a rewritten version of this story. Since my writing has somewhat evolved since I wrote this story, I decided to rewrite it. I left the original up as just a comparison piece.

Song: Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve

*

'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Trying to make ends meet
You're a slave to money then you die
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
Where all the veins meet yeah

            Dark hair spilled over her shoulders as she grappled her covers tightly, shaking her head violently, moaning piteously in her sleep. Tears slipped under her tightly closed lids, streaking her mascara down her milky skin. Her hair was just a tangled mess, giving her a despondent look that one usually associates with extreme melancholy. Who knew that a simple twist of fate could reduce Kathryn to such weakness?

            She opened her eyes slowly, blinking back the impending darkness, squinting as the sunshine spilled into the room, blinding her. She covered her ears as the birds sang happily from their perch, but for Kathryn there was nothing to be happy about – and she feared now there would never be anything to be happy about again. He always told her that her virtuous act would be her undoing, and he had been right.

            He had his revenge on her even from the grave. She cringed as the remembrance of their hateful eyes pressed on her mind, sending shivers up her spine. They had stared at her without mercy; their eyes full of unspoken accusations. She had stood before them with the panache of a queen until that little twit, Cecile, ambled toward her purposefully and handed her a book, and in it, every secret she ever held dear was exposed.

            That book was Sebastian's journal—his final hurrah—and it had been her undoing. A solitary tear had slipped down her face, as they closed in on her, verbalizing their newfound hate for her. And while she stood unmoving, not speaking, in front of the church, she had looked beyond the angry faces, and she saw a vision of a somber Sebastian under the Oak tree. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, and when she opened them again, he was gone.

            Everything was gone. Everything she worked so hard for was gone because of a dead man's confession. "No! No! No! Damn you, Sebastian!" She screamed, pulling at her matted hair. She was a mad Ophelia without her Hamlet. Was this really the great Kathryn Merteuil?

No change, I can't change
I can't change, I can't change
But I'm here in my mold
I am here in my mold
But I'm a million different people
From one day to the next
I can't change my mold

            Temptation got the better of him. He knew he shouldn't have been there, but even "death" wouldn't make Sebastian miss the grand show. He had stood under a large Oak tree, not too far from the entrance of the church. No one seemed to notice him as the murmurs of disbelief rose in the air. She walked out of the church in an agitated huff, preparing to give her "holier-than-thou" speech, but stopped dead in her tracks when the cold stares accosted her.

            Not one person ripped their eyes from her; they held the journal tightly in their hands. Cecile walked innocently up to Kathryn and handed her a copy of the book. She opened the book, her eyes scanning the content. She paled visibly as she gripped the book, a tear springing from her eye. She looked over their heads then, toward him. He turned abruptly, leaving the scene before she realized that he wasn't an angel or some illusion.

            He was ready to begin his life with Annette. His sweet, beautiful Annette who had wept for joy when she realized that he would live, who had helped him scheme up this plan though it had taken money and time that he was glad to part with for her. He couldn't help but wonder how Kathryn was taking it all, now. She had after all been his original obsession. Once upon a time, Kathryn was the vision of everything he wanted, but could never have. Perhaps, he would visit her one last time for old time's sake.

Well I never pray but tonight I'm on my knees yeah
I need to hear some sounds that
Recognize the pain in me, yeah
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind
I feel free now
But the airways are clean and
There's nobody singing to me now

            Kathryn rolled listlessly from her bed, landing on her knees, making no effort to stand. She searched frantically under her bed until she found the cheaply printed book. Cradling it in her hands, she tucked her feet beneath her neatly as a lady of her esteem should, and began to flip through the pages without another thought.

            She read various passages about herself – a pang shooting through her heart. She had always thought that Sebastian loved her. No matter how many times she spurned Sebastian, she craved his attention. She always adored his hungry eyes, following her as she entered (or exited) the room. She could see the need in his eyes. That was until Annette entered the picture. She slid the book back under her bed; she couldn't stomach anymore of it.

            She wouldn't let herself believe that Sebastian's death was ultimately her fault. Even when everyone said that it was her fault, she maintained her innocence. Guilt washed over her though as she thought about his last remaining weeks, but she wouldn't allow herself to take the blame for his death. It was the price Sebastian paid for playing a game he couldn't control – the game of love.

            Her parents were out now. Their son was dead, but they still found the time to attend social functions. According to them, it wasn't proper to cancel plans, especially at such a needy time. Sebastian wouldn't want that. So, they walked out the door, leaving the maids to watch her, and they had the audacity to wonder how their children got so corrupted. They were blind to their own part in the grand scheme of things.

            Why didn't anyone question them? The people who were supposed to be the grownups, to guide and lead them. They were always gone for weeks at a time, leaving two teens to take care of themselves. Oh, how she wanted a hit of heroin at that moment, but she knew she couldn't do that. She needed to be focused while she prepared her own last act of revenge against everyone.

            Tonight, she was going to attend her last party, the final ball.

No change, I can't change
I can't change, I can't change
But I'm here in my mold
I am here in my mold
But I'm a million different people
From one day to the next
I can't change my mold

            "Annette, I'm home!" He yelled into the empty house. No answer. He picked up a piece of paper that lay neatly beside the phone. Written in her neat scrawl, Annette wrote that she had gone to her parents' house for the evening. "Well, what the hell do I do now?" He asked as if she could answer him. He sighed and balled the paper up.

            His mind wandered involuntarily to Kathryn. "Poor Kathryn, what a noble mind is she o'erthrown." He said aloud quoting a passage from Hamlet. Honestly, it was the only one he remembered. He once believed he loved her, and maybe he had. Or maybe, he had just been infatuated by the girl who refused him numerous times. She teased, but wouldn't let him touch.

            He knew it was risky, but he had to make things final. He drove to the home he used to call him, slipping past a sleeping maid who undoubtedly was supposed to be keeping an eye on Kathryn. Their parents were out. Nothing unusual. They never saw them anyway, and Sebastian couldn't help wondering how things would have been different had they had parents who acted like, well… parents.

            He peered through a crack in her door, unprepared for what he saw. "Kathryn?"

Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Trying to make ends meet
try to find somebody then you die
No change, I can't change
I can't change, I can't change
But I'm here in my mold
I am here in my mold
But I'm a million different people
From one day to the next
I can't change my mold

            Beautiful. She was simply beautiful. She had bathed, using her most fragrant bath oils, soaking in the huge, porcelain tub until her skin was soft and shimmering. She fingered an expensive gown she had tailored for her "coming of age" ball. A crimson, corset-style strapless dress with a full, ballroom gown. She pulled it on, admiring how the crimson contrasted with her fair skin. She took great care with her makeup, making sure everything was perfect.

            She pulled her hair up in a simple upsweep, and she ended her ensemble with a splash of perfume that cost her $400 for just 16oz. She took some stationary out of her desk, and began to write hurriedly.

It wouldn't have mattered what you said
Without Sebastian here, I might as well be dead

And so I close my eyes to die
To rid myself of this pantomime between the world and I

 It won't matter what I say
The pain of today will never go away

A beautiful façade on which from heaven I will reminisce
Another broken promise sealed with a kiss
-K

            Kathryn pressed her lips to the paper, leaving behind a vermilion kiss print. She poured herself a glass of wine as she stood from her seat and began to sway to an unheard song. She popped a handful of pills in her mouth, chasing them with swallows of wine. God bless her mother – the valium addict. Her dance slowed as the drowsiness overcame her, forcing her to lie in her bed and wait serenely for death.

            Then she heard his voice. "Kathryn?" She turned her head slightly and saw him walking toward her. He was there to escort her to heaven. She knew he loved her.

            "Sebastian, I got beautiful for you." She whispered, he stroked her head lovingly, his eyes misting over. "We can be together forever now. Just me and you like it was supposed to be."

            "But Kathryn…" He started

            "Sebastian, please kiss me." She pleaded with him. Sebastian kissed her softly on the cheek, trailing her jawbone to her lips, and then he rested his cheek against her own. His tears were coming harder now – angel tears forgiving her of her sins.

            "In this eternal sleep we call death, what dreams may come?" Kathryn asked, feeling that Shakespeare was fitting for her last moments.

            "Kathryn, I'm… I'm not dead. It was a setup…" He said between his sobs. Not dead?  The words echoed through her psych, and she tried to open her mouth to curse him, but she was too weak. It had all been an elaborate charade, a well thought out tragedy where she was the villain. She fought the sleep, but her lids slowly lowered, a tear rolling down her face as she took her last breath.

We've got ya sex and violence melody and silence
Have you ever been down
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down