#don't ask why i wrote an 8k fan fic about these two making a dish made out of smashed cheetos ramen and doritos i legally had to

[fabdante]

Blunt Force Object

“Spread?” She asks, dry and disconnected. He nods and she looks at him, still dry and now frowning. “Are you making some kind of sex joke because if you are-” No. He’s learned his goddamn lesson enough after the ‘I like it rough’ thing. “It’s a jail food,” he tells her. He turns slightly between her and the kitchen, hoping it’ll prompt her to walk out of her doorway. But it doesn’t. She’s still standing there. Unconvinced. “It’s fun.” She blinks. “You want me to make…jail food with you?” She asks and he nods once again. “Yeah. Everything we get from donations and aid is better quality but it’s the same basic shit we’d get in commissary. Figured we could make a pretty good spread out of it,” he says with a shrug. “It’s good. I promise.” Ok. Maybe he can’t promise that it’ll be good. Especially since she’s never had spread, will have nothing to compare it to, and lacks any nostalgia for it like he has. But Kat’s been in her room all day. And maybe this could get her out. Cooking something, something they make together as a team, will be good for her. Plus, she needs to get something in her stomach. Maybe she’ll remember she isn’t alone. Because a lot of dinners are spent fending for themselves and he knows she’s not used to it still. She feels alone. He knows she feels alone. But they’re a team and she can talk to him. He needs her to know that.

Summery: Kat won't leave her room and Dante has an idea.

Words: 8,934

Rating: Mature (references to: past drug dealing, past jail time, childhood abuse both in and out of the foster care system, past self harm, past drug use some bad and some not, speculative major character death no ones really sure on that one, and probably the amount of swearing one expects from DmC: Devil May Cry my beloved)

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