Jasmine Scarthing-Considering I got cracked ribs when I DID get home... You did not. It felt like it. No one ever got cracked ribs from being hugged. I did. Don't be so dramatic. Cracked. Ribs. Rubbish.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-That amused me. Jonathan... It did. If I hadn't laughed at that man who got bit by a rabid beaver... Rabid BEAVER? Where was I? It was on the news in Arkham, you were in therapy. Damn.
Oh, god. That was an ordeal.
He's exhausted and more than a little shaken by his close call. He would have been killed if he hadn't gassed a cop and ducked out of there before his followers could come. That had probably triggered everything-his toxins are very flammable, even one little spark, from a round fired at the right time…
Never mind. Home at last. He pushes open the door and shuffles inside, wanting little more than a good nights' sleep.
Kitty's balled up in the armchair, sobbing. Not the 'Boromir died' type of sobbing, either-these are full on, near-silent sobs. What on earth happened?
"Kitty?"
She doesn't answer him. He drops his mask on the table and wonders what he should do. Screams he can understand, but tears just confuse him.
"Kitty." He doesn't really want to shake her, but… "What's wrong?" He puts his hand on her shoulder. "Kitty?"
She starts up, her breath catching in her throat.
"Jonathan." Why is she looking at him like that? "You're…you're not…"
"Not what?"
She's hugging him. Why is she hugging him? He was only two hours late-not at all unexpected, given the circumstances. There is absolutely no discernable reason for her to be squeezing him and sobbing into his shirt.
"Kitty." He pokes her shoulder. "Kitty, you're shrinking my shirt."
That doesn't stop her. That doesn't even annoy her. All it does is make her cry harder.
Help.
"Kitty?"
Then he spots a 'breaking news' report. And, more interestingly, the fact that he is presumed dead in the explosion.
Oh.
Well. This is awkward.
"You can stop now."
"I thought you were dead, you idiot!" She hits his shoulder. "Dead! Forever gone! Great gig in the sky!"
Well, at least she's stopped sobbing hysterically.
"I'm not dead."
"I can see that, thank you very much!" She shakes him a little. "I'm not blind, you know."
He'll just shut up now.
Well? How much longer is she going to take? They've been here for five minutes already!
He starts playing the Jeopardy theme in his head. The news replays some footage of this evening.
"Kitty." The sobs have slowed a little. That's good. He tries again. "Kitty?"
He looks appealingly at the ceiling. For heaven's sake…
She's not going to let go of him, is she?
He ends up just standing there and watching the muted news. Sooner or later she'll calm down and let go. He has half a mind to feign a faint, just to see what she'll do, but she might kill him for it.
"Kitty."
"Don't do that again." Her voice is muffled and hoarse. "Please."
He sighs. It isn't as though he did it on purpose. He doesn't much like to be cried on and yelled at, thank you very much.
"I won't."
"Promise?"
He can't promise. That kind of promise is one he can break.
"Kitty…"
"Please."
He'll regret it, he knows he'll regret it.
"Promise." He kisses the top of her head. "Come on, let go."
"No."
God.
Really?
It takes some maneuvering, but he manages to pick her up.
"I am going to wash up. You are going to calm down."
"I am calm."
Yeah, now. Now that she's cried herself out.
He goes to set her down and she grabs his shirt and refuses to release him. Fine. He'll just wait for her to pass out.
He can't blame her too much for being irrational, he supposes. She should know better than to believe the news, but at the same time…
He leans against the headboard and wonders if he should try moving her. It sounds like too much of a risk and he resigns himself to a long night.
"Kitty?"
"Mm."
"You know I can't guarantee that promise, right?"
"Mm."
She's falling asleep. Good.
Five minutes later, she's out cold. At last. He tucks her in before getting up to grab that shower.
THE END