Sorry this took me so long. My little guy just had his first birthday so the past week has been filled with partying and people and presents and mayhem!

To answer EpicMickeyX's review, we're not going to Batman's. In fact, we're a looooooooong way from Gotham! *evil grin*

THE DESCENT

With his head in his hands, Klarion sits hunched over at the kitchen table to his sister's home, waiting.

His eyes dart between the well-worn floor and the room across the way. A sliver of light leaks out from beneath the closed bedroom door, the only source of brightness in her nearly pitch black home. He rathers it this way, sitting in the darkness. It fits his mood. And besides, looking down at his arms, he doesn't really want to bring to light and see all the blood on his hands right now. So vivid and red. Seeping into the cuffs of his bleached white shirt. Radiant and glistening across the bathroom floor. Kitrina's eyes rolling into the back of her head. Those wounds... He squeezes his eyes shut, telling his mind to venture elsewhere. Despite how hard he tries, he finds himself reliving that moment again and again.

A clock ticks somewhere. He taps his foot anxiously. Shadows shift along the floorboards, movement from the other room, though he still can't quite tell what is going on in there.

Although he knows he should think positively, his head swims with painful thoughts. Could she possibly be dead? Why hasn't Beulah given him any word yet? Just what is she doing in there anyway? It feels as if she's been in there for all eternity already. Time has been progressing much too slowly. It's painful to sit here and wait. He feels so useless.

Klarion idly strokes Teekl's fur as the plump cat sits somberly in his narrow lap. An attempt to comfort both he and his familiar. Neither have spoken a word to one another. There's nothing much to say.

Finally, Beulah emerges and both Klarion and Teekl's heads pick up. He attentively sits straight up in his chair, eagerly awaiting word as she makes her way towards him. Wiping her hands on her starched white apron, she takes a seat beside him and sighs. With the slightest wave of her hand, a gas lantern on the table along with several other candles scattered about the room burst to life.

"So?" Klarion asks in much anticipation, fidgeting in his seat. All of a sudden, he finds himself unable to sit still.

"So..." Beulah begins in a scolding tone. "You SHOULD have gone to a doctor, NOT a midwife. Why the heavens did you come here anyway? If your Blue Rafters is so much more advanced, then couldn't you have-"

"I already told you. I couldn't take her to the hospital." Klarion growls, interrupting his sister. "This was the first place that popped into my head as I stepped through the portal."

Beulah's eyes narrow at her younger brother's bitter tone. Though she's glad at the idea that her brother thought of home and family first when the going got tough and he had nowhere else to go, she still can't help but be furious at him.

"You don't come home in HOW many years and THIS is the first place you think of?" She returns with spite. "I mean really, brother. You don't even write or summon. You act as if the world above is so much greater than-"

"I do not wish to argue with you, dear sister." Klarion interrupts yet again, raising his voice. The room silences and he takes a deep breath, quieting his nerves. "Just please... Tell me. Will she be alright?"

With a bit of a huff, Beulah crosses her arms.

"She's lost quite a bit of blood, but otherwise is fine. It would appear she'd dredged most of the shrapnel herself. I've removed the rest and have stitched her up proper. She just needs her rest." Beulah replies slowly. "I have her on several healing and protection spells now that the bleeding has stopped. Her bandages will be needing tending to come the morning and I'll have to step out to gather a fresh supply of witch hazel and agrimony to begin preparing more medicine for her wounds, but-"

He needn't listen to the rest. With a slight nod, Klarion gets to his feet and makes for the door with Teekl close behind.

"And just where do you think you're off to?"

Klarion stops in his steps and turns to answer his sister.

"Tending the garden." Klarion responds. "You said you needed herbs for Kitrina's medication."

With a slight smirk, Beulah uncrosses her arms and places her hands in her lap.

"And that can wait, dear brother." She returns, patting the empty chair beside her. "Come. Sit a spell with me and let us chat. It has been ages since we've last spoken. Tell me stories of your adventures and the world above."

Klarion hesitates for a moment, lingering by the door before ultimately coming back to his seat at the table.

"And what sort of tale would you like to hear?" Klarion asks rather skeptically. Knowing his sister, he can already predict all too well what sort of tale she would like him to tell.

Beulah smirks.

"Tell me how you came to meet this human girl."

Klarion shrugs nonchalantly, playing it cool.

"Nothing to tell." He replies indifferently. "Teekl and I needed lodging and she was kind enough to allow us entrance to her home."

With the quirk of her brow, Beulah casts a knowing look, keen to her brother's tricks and lies.

"You're lying." She accuses, eyes twinkling. "Oh what wicked yarns you spin, my brother."

"Am not!" Klarion defends, nose in the air and arms across his chest. "What I say is the absolute truth."

Perched atop Klarion's shoulders, Teekl huffs and imitates his master. Beulah snickers.

"Ohhh... So then you mean to tell me that YOU, such a virile young man such as yourself, share residence with a young and fertile, not to mention PRETTY, unmarried woman? And a non-magic surface dweller to boot!" Beulah teases. She taps a slender blue finger against her chin. Her grin broadens. "How scandalous!"

Klarion takes offense, instantly finding the need to defend himself.

"It's not like that. She's just... a friend." Klarion insists rather quickly. "As you know, things are much different on the surface, Beulah. A man may take up residence with a woman without a public uproar. A man may even lie with any woman of his choosing without the need for marriage..." His ears turn red in guilt. He finds himself explaining himself even quicker now. "NOT that I've DONE anything of the sort, but... Please understand, their world is not like ours."

Beulah eyes her brother skeptically.

"You say she is your friend, but I can see it in your eyes, in your face... You want her to be more." Her grin turns wicked though her eyes betray her. They find themselves becoming warm. Tender. Her voice softens. "You love her, don't you?"

Klarion casts her a dangerous glare.

"Oh come now, you can tell me." Beulah insists. "It's not like I'm going to go running off, rallying the other villagers to burn you at the stake... AGAIN. I-"

"Can we please move on to something else? Some other topic. Perhaps one that does not include ridiculing ME." Klarion interrupts. "Tell me, how are things with your husband... Malachie?"

"Mordechai." Beulah corrects snappishly. "Perhaps you would remember his name better if you had bothered attending the wedding."

"I thought I had already explained." Klarion sighs. "Batman needed my assistance in saving the world. I figured you, of all people, would understand."

"The world is ALWAYS in peril, Klarion."

To this, Klarion just folds his arms and slumps further back in his chair.

"Will you be visiting with mother during your visit?" Beulah continues in an attempt to somewhat change the conversation. "Or do you plan on skipping town as soon as your "friend" is well?"

Klarion's black eyes fall upon the flickering flame, finding it far more interesting than his current conversation.

"While I am at it, why don't I just give my regards to the entire village as well." Klarion grumbles beneath his breath sarcastically.

"Splendid idea!" Beulah exclaims, clapping her hands. "At the church, during tomorrow's mass."

Whether she understands Klarion's sarcasm or not, it look's like he's stuck. A groan escapes his lips.

"Of course, you cannot wear that." She points at Klarion's bloodied suit from the world above.

Inching closer, she examines him head to toe.

"My, you have grown since I saw you last. You are what now? A little over six feet tall I would say." Beulah points out. "No doubt, the doublets mother has kept for you would no longer fit. However, I'm sure Mordechai's would do nicely."

Beulah gets up from her seat, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress.

"I'll go fetch them. They shall be pressed and ready for you come the morning."

"Thanks." Klarion mumbles low.

He gets up from his seat as well, stretching out his tired bones. He had forgotten just how long he had been sitting in that same spot. His eyes move to the left, stopping at the closed bedroom door.

"Come." Beulah instructs. "I'll prepare a bed for you."

"If you don't mind, I think I would rather stay by her side." Klarion replies, pocketing his hands. "Just in case she wakes. It would be best she finds a familiar face, seeing that this is an unfamiliar setting to her. I wouldn't want her to be startled."

Beulah doesn't point out the obvious, just nods with a small and knowing smile.

"Of course. Just be ready for church by nine." She says as she prepares to leave. "I'll be just down the hall should you need my assistance. Rest well, Klarion. I shall pray for your friend's safety."

"Rest well." Klarion returns, his eyes still on Kitrina's bedroom door. "Oh, and Beulah?" His voice turns soft, his words quieter than before. "Thank you."

With a small smile and a curt nod, she departs. Her owl-like familiar follows close behind.

Standing alone in his sister's kitchen, Klarion waits until the lights in the old wooden home dim and he knows Beulah has gone to bed before slowly making his way towards Kitrina's room. A sense of dread fills him. Placing his hand on the door frame, he wants so badly just to step inside and find her awake, bright and smiling, sitting on the bed waiting for him, acting as if nothing is wrong. As if nothing had happened. Instead he finds the room dark and Kitrina lying still in the bed in the corner.

He takes hold of the small oil lantern affixed to the wall by her door and removes the glass globe. Snapping his fingers, he lights fire to the wick and replaces the glass. The small flame casts its warm glow throughout the room, lighting the path towards her bed. Slowly, he makes his way over and sets the lantern down on her nightstand.

Teekl perches himself at the edge of her bedpost, a silent sentinel as he guards her against the darkness.

With a nervous sigh, he lets out a shaky breath. It would appear that the weight of tonight's events have finally sunk in. Standing by her bedside, he removes his jacket, folds it neatly and places it on the chair by her bed. No doubt the same chair Beulah had sat in as she attended her wounds. He loosens his tie and places it on the chair as well. Looking down at his shirtsleeves, it's the first time he's allowed himself, albeit accidentally, to gaze upon the bloodstains well-past dried upon his arms. It turns his stomach up in knots, leaves him feeling sick. To know that she is hurting and there's nothing he can do... To think he'd almost lost her.

Finally removing his shoes and kicking them to the side of her nightstand, he eases onto the bed next to her, letting his feet hang off the side as he stares down at her sleeping face.

Even the lantern's warmth can't bring to life her placid skin. She looks so pale and gone. It tugs at Klarion, deep inside.

Laying down beside her, he gathers her in his arms like how he did when she couldn't sleep from her night terrors and wishes he could fix her now just as easily as he did then. It feels as if she's slipping away, falling further from his grasp. He pulls her in closer, unwilling to let go.

"Gotcha." He whispers as he closes his eyes.