AN: Directly related to 'The Dark'. What did I do to deserve this? You came pre-packaged with a traumatic childhood. God dammit. Sorry. You are not. ...No. Not really.
SwordStitcher-Any Granny is frightening, thank you very much.
Jasmine Scarthing-It is. Fascinating afterwards, however.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-Oh, joy.
He can't sleep. He hasn't slept for several nights, and Kitty's beginning to notice. But there's nothing he can do.
Maybe he's crazy, maybe he's sleep-deprived, or maybe she did come back from the dead. He doesn't know and he doesn't care. All he knows is that he does not want to sleep by the edge of the bed. Or, for that matter, sleep at all.
He's lying here, in the dark, listening to Gotham's nightlife on the street below. He really is tired…was that the door opening?
No. No, the door is closed. Good.
There's several inches between him and the edge of the bed. If she really is over there, maybe she can't reach him.
There's a horrid fluttering noise outside and he flinches. Bats. Just bats, Gotham is infested with them.
Kitty moves a bit and he tries to slow his breathing. She's not awake anyway. Thank goodness for that.
He risks a quick look over, just to make sure she isn't there. She isn't. Nothing is there but dust particles.
He lets his eyes wander up, up, and onto the resting place of his mask. That thing really is creepy, now that he thinks about it. That is the point, but…
What was that?
Did something move in the corner?
He blinks and tries to focus. No, nothing, but he could have sworn…never mind.
God, he could do with a glass of water. He forgot to grab one before coming in here and his tongue feels like sand. He'll just go downstairs and get one. With the lights on.
He puts his glasses on, feels his way out into the hall and goes downstairs. Ahh. Light. Safety.
He chugs the water-blegh, Gotham's tap water is awful-and refills the glass to take back with him. He's just turned off the tap when the lights go off.
"Kitty?" She isn't the type to play tricks on him. Not like this, anyway. "Not now, Kitty, I'm tired."
She doesn't answer. Maybe the bulb blew. He flicks the switch and the light comes back on. Faulty wiring, then. How odd.
"If someone's in here, I poison first and ask questions later." Or, more accurately, never. Hopefully they won't know he's bluffing… "I mean it, Batman. Grow up."
No flying rodents hit him in the chest or anything. Yes. Faulty wires. He flicks off the light and starts back up, wishing he had eyes in the back of his head.
This apartment building reminds him of Keeney Manor. Maybe that's why he can't sleep. If he's unsuccessful tonight, he'll ask Kitty about moving.
It feels like someone's behind him. He turns, though, and there is no one there. He'll be glad to be back in bed…
Something touches his shoulder and he turns sharply, scanning the blackness for any sign of an intruder. There is no one there.
"Hello?" He knows there's someone there, he felt them. "Who is it?"
There's a thumping-dragging sound from the end of the hallway and he feels the blood drain from his face. He knows that sound. Granny made it when she walked-she'd broken her foot when he was a boy and it had never healed straight, necessitating the use of that horrid wooden cane.
"This isn't funny." Why won't his voice stop shaking? "Whoever it is, knock it off. Now."
The thumping-dragging sound happens again and he backs up. It's just rats or a homeless person downstairs or
"Jonathan?"
JESUS FUCKING…
"Kitty."
"Are you all right, love?"
Didn't she hear it?
"Fine."
"Sleepwalking?"
She didn't hear it?
"I…"
"Come on. Back to bed."
She takes his sleeve and tugs him back into their room and tucks him into bed-well away from the edge.
"Thought I heard something."
"Batman?"
"Could have been."
She shuts the door and slips under the covers with him.
"Something outside. Sweet dreams, Jonathan."
He shudders and keeps his eyes shut. After about an hour, he's just drifting off when he hears The Noise again, this time right outside the door.
He doesn't sleep after that.
THE END