SwordStitcher-She hasn't done anything yet... I'm letting him relax and forget about it. Oh? After all...it is such lovely soup weather. Soup? Never mind me, love. Go back to your tea.
Jasmine Scarthing-We'll pretend we didn't read that. Kitty, this tea tastes a little off... You have a stuffy nose, love. That's all.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-What is in this tea? Sugar. Maybe that wasn't the best idea, after all... It wasn't, but I didn't poison you. Um...
Voodoo-Mutant-Child-I am not eating a cockroach. Or me. I'm not stuffing anything, either. I might. Are you sure it's just sugar? Well, it's not cyanide...
He isn't sure what woke him, only that he is lying on his back with his eyes closed. For some reason-was he dreaming, is that what woke him?-he is filled with…fright. Shame he's in no shape to enjoy it.
He is not alone. Something is kneeling by the bed, near his head. He can sense it. It isn't breathing, or moving, but he knows it's there. Batman? No, Batman would have woken him breaking down the door.
Scarecrow?
The straw man doesn't answer. He tries to take a breath and finds that he can only take a little one. Oh, god. He's got a collapsed lung, the thing by his head did something…
"Jonathan."
He should look and see what it is. He'd gas it, but it's between him and his nightstand and he has no intention of putting his hand out of bed.
"Jonathan Crane, look at me."
He knows that voice.
No. He won't look at her. She's dead, this is a bad dream. Any minute Kitty will wake him.
"Jonathan!"
Against his will, his head turns and his eyes open. At first, even the blackness is fuzzy. Then he blinks and sees her face, inches from his own.
She's rotting. Her hair has clumps gone and what little skin remains is beginning to peel off. She doesn't have eyes any more-those chilling blue eyes that he inherited are pecked out, with bloody sockets to show where they were.
He squeezes his eyes shut but can't turn his head away from her. He can't breathe he can't breathe god Jesus somebody please…
He feels a long, sharp talon-her fingernail? a crow?-scrape from his forehead to his lips. This is no nightmare. She's finally come back, like he knew she would.
"Jonathan." She sounds just as he remembers her, harsh and unforgiving and heartless. Her
hand comes to rest on his chest and presses downwards, making him wheeze. "Look at me, Jonathan Crane."
Somebody…please…
He opens his eyes again, hoping against hope that facing her will make her disappear. She's out of his line of vision now, mostly-all he can see of her is the top of her head. Her skull is shining through amongst the bloodstained hair clumps.
He tries to open his mouth to speak but can't get the oxygen to do it. She knows-god help him, she knows everything!-and he hears a rough cackle from the floor.
"Stupid boy."
No, please…
Then there's blinding light and someone-Kitty, it's just Kitty, with her soft hands and mercifully short nails-is shaking him.
"Jonathan. Jonathan, wake up, you're having a nightmare."
Like hell. He's had nightmares, and that wasn't one.
He can breathe! Shuddering, feeling like he nearly drowned, he pulls himself up and out of bed. She's here, she's still here somewhere…
"Jonathan?"
He doesn't answer her.
Under the bed? That's a logical place. But the only under there is a herd of dust bunnies. Maybe the closet…no. Nothing there at all. The door's closed, and there's nowhere else to hide…there's no loose floorboards in here?
No. Not even a creaky one.
He falls back on the bed, breathing hard, still feeling that claw running down his face. That was no nightmare. He can tell the difference.
"Jonathan?"
He squeezes her, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs. She was here, he saw her…
"What's wrong, love?"
"Granny was here."
"That's not possible."
He shakes his head. With Granny, anything is possible.
"Saw her. Felt her."
She tries to pull back-probably to check him for fever-and he tightens his grip. Not now.
"Please."
"You're safe, love, you're all right. She wasn't here. She's dead."
She may be dead, but she was here.
"Kitty…"
"You probably had an episode of sleep paralysis."
No. He's had that before, too, and it wasn't like this.
He lets her pull back and feel his forehead. Her hand is cold.
"Just a bad dream." she says firmly. "I am going to get you a glass of water. You are going to get into some fresh pyjamas and then get back in bed. You are all right, I promise."
He doesn't want her to leave. What if Granny comes back? What if she's in the hall, waiting?
"Kitty, please…"
"Shh. Two minutes, love. You're all right. Deep breaths."
She disappears into the dark hallway and he sits up to dig out a fresh shirt and pants. Maybe she's right…Granny is dead, after all, he checked…
He's just pulling his shirt off when he spots something outside on the sill. He can't see much, because of the rain, but it looks like a human…Batman?
He blinks and it's gone, just as Kitty comes back with a glass of water.
"Feeling better?"
No, not at all, but he forces a smile anyway.
"Yes."
"That's good. Come on, back in bed."
He forgoes the shirt and settles under the blankets after downing the glass. Maybe Kitty's right. Just a dream. Just a bad dream.
"Sweet dreams, love." She kisses his forehead and settles down with her arms around his ribs. Safe. He's safe and Granny's not here.
He clicks off the light and closes his eyes, determined not to open them again until morning.
God dammit it…there's something under his lower back. This mattress is falling apart, it's probably part of the spring.
He rummages around until his fingers close around something sharp and pointy. Hm. Feels like he can pull it out. Maybe it's something else in the mattress?
He draws it out and fumbles for his reading light. What is this…oh, dear god.
Held in his trembling fingers is a long, black crow feather.
THE END
AN: Supernatural? Unhappy coincidence? Up to you. Jonathan's 'sleep paralysis' episode is based on my own experiences. Most unpleasant, I assure you. Pleasant dreams.