I'm not sure how well this flows, but it's been too long and I wanted to get something up for you guys. Let me know how to make it better and I totally will :)
There is probably only one more chapter of this story left, but don't worry. I'll be updating a lot of other stories in the near future. And possibly starting a new one?
Standard disclaimers apply, as always.
Jack is already up and waiting for her, tea in hand, when Katherine wakes with a runny nose and eyes shining with determination.
He shakes his head as she crawls slowly from beneath the covers, weakly tugging open the closet door and pulling out the first outfit she sees. He waves the tea in front of her, hoping the steam will clear her sinuses, but she doesn't even appear to notice the mug.
"You ain't goin' anywhere," he tells her firmly once he realizes she's dressing for work, trying to steer her back to the bed. Ignoring him, she rolls her eyes and starts taking the shirt off the hanger.
"I have to get back to the office," she mutters, coughing a little. It's obvious she's miserable, but if anything, that seems to make her want to get away even more. "I know you were worried, Jack, but you can't–"
"Here," he says, cutting her off and handing her a roll of papers that was tucked into the waistband of his pants. "You really ain't going anywhere, cause you don't have to."
She stares at him blankly for a moment, then accepts the pile and unrolls it. "Is this–"
"Your notes from last night," he says, shrugging. "Grabbed 'em on my way out – I figured you'd need it when you woke up."
She stands on her tiptoes, reaching for a kiss, and he leans down in compliance. "You're wonderful," she says, then smacks his shoulder as he flashes a cocky grin.
"I know."
He carries her to her desk – despite her shrill protests – and wraps her in a thick blanket while she begins typing away. The tea is balanced on the stack of notebooks next to the typewriter now, and Katherine pauses to take a sip and sighs.
"Did I say thank you for this yet?"
"Nope." Jack shakes his head, a small smile on his face. "You were too busy trying to sneak past me and escape."
"Oh." She grins sheepishly. "Sorry. And thank you."
He tugs at her hair absently, rubbing her back gently when she coughs again. "Think I deserve another kiss?"
"I don't want you to get sick," she protests weakly, but her resolve doesn't last long.
His head on her shoulder, Jack alternates between watching her fingers fly over the keys and reading the words appearing on the page. He can tell already that the article is going to be a good one – she manages to strike the perfect balance between her personal experiences and other reports of the hospital to give her words weight. The machine spells out paragraphs about the patients crying out at night, descriptions of effects of drugs and cold baths – suddenly the night before makes more sense – and then falters in the midst of a sentence that makes his blood run cold.
"They hit you, too?" he asks in a deadly quiet voice, and he can feel her cringe against him.
"Only when I got too outspoken."
"You'd better make this one hell of an article," he manages to say, though his throat feels rough. They need to pay for everything they've done. And he's sure that, with what Katherine has so far, they will. The asylum won't last the year.
After he's watched her for more than an hour, he remembers that neither of them had breakfast and wanders to the kitchen to see if she has anything edible on the shelves. She laughs as he goes through the pantry.
"Make yourself at home, why don't you." Her genuine smile betrays her sarcastic tone. "What did you do when I wasn't here?"
"Let's just say I was a little cold and hungry," he says softly. He's only half kidding. And what he leaves out is the fact that he was also lonely and terrified.
The doorbell rings in the middle of his construction of a makeshift sandwich.
"Who is that?" Katherine's voice emanates shrilly from the next room. "Tell them I'm not home." Shrugging – he missed her so much he doesn't mind her bossy tone – he makes his way over to her door and begins to tug it open.
"Mr. Kelly! What are you doing in my daughter's apartment at this hour?"
Just in time, Jack recognizes the stern voice and slams the door shut again. Though he hasn't exactly done anything specific wrong, his heart is pounding. Her father is here. He hadn't expected that at all.
"It's not that early, it's after – wait, what? Kelly who?" Jack's voice is an octave higher than usual.
"Mr. Kelly, I'm not playing games." Indeed, his voice is anything but playful. As if Joseph Pulitzer even knew the meaning of the word.
"Sorry, Joe, you got it wrong. I'm just the guy she pays to answer the door when she ain't available . . ." Jack leans against the door, but the old man is stronger than he looks. Before Jack knows it he's forced himself inside and is standing in the kitchen, glaring at them both.
Somehow Katherine ended up with his shirt buttoned over her nightdress the previous night, and her father picks up on it immediately. Jack crosses his arms over his undershirt and scowls.
"Did you want somethin', or were you just coming to pick a fight?"
"I wanted to check on my daughter," Pulitzer spits out, looking appalled at Jack's tone as well as his presence. "I was worried about the condition she was in last night. But now I would like you to leave. Immediately."
Now Pulitzer is holding the door open for him, but Jack simply scowls. He stops being nervous and focuses on his anger instead. "So let me get this straight, Joe. You have no problem sending your daughter into a place where they lock her up, poke her, freeze her and hit her. But you have a problem with me bringin' her back here and making sure she's okay?"
The look on Pulitzer's face makes his answer all too clear. Jack snorts and spins away, coming to stand by Katherine, who has made her way over from her chair.
"I'm fine, Father," she says cooly as Jack runs a hand angrily through his hair. "I'm sure you'll breathe easier now that you know I'll recover. I'll have the article to you by tomorrow." Her voice is dripping in sarcasm.
It is obvious from her tone that she has nothing more to say to her father, and he struggles to find a retort as well. After opening and closing his mouth several times, he jams his hat on his head and turns to leave.
"Simply put it on my desk," he says as he steps through the door. "There will be no need for you to linger." The door closes with a sharp snap, and they are alone once more.
Katherine sighs and slumps against Jack, the fight leaving her in an instant as the exhaustion seeps back in. "I'm sorry."
"Well, I pissed him off," he counters, almost apologetic. He eyes her guiltily. "An' I was trying not to, too."
Katherine makes a noise halfway between a sob and a laugh. "I don't even know why you try, honestly. Tell him to go to hell and we'll get on with our lives."
"He's your father," Jack says, shaking his head. "I ain't gonna do that."
"I don't care. He's ridiculous, he–"
"I do care, though." He leads her back to the chair and pulls the blanket around her shoulders again, then gently brushes her hair out from under it. "Some day, your father and I are gonna have to have a real important conversation about blessings. An' then I'm gonna have to hope he don't hate me that much, I suppose." He blushes dark red and looks away, but his hand doesn't leave her shoulder.
At his admission, Katherine breaks down into real tears that turn into a hacking cough, and before long she and Jack both end up laughing.
"If you get better and make it till then," he adds teasingly, patting her back as she regains her breath. And then she is breathless all over again as she pulls him into a kiss that makes him go even redder and has him panting as well.
"You're going to get sick, too," she repeats worriedly when they break apart.
He snorts, nuzzling her cheek. "Now that I don't care about."
Reviews are confidence boosters. :)
Also, thanks to BlackBandit111 for helping me work out the half-proposal idea (couldn't say that above because it would ruin it :). I know we talked about it for Aftermath, but it fit so much better here - hope that's okay!
Much love,
KnightNight