Change of Plans : arkhams_dr

[questionorigin]

Duela slumped down onto the couch after hanging up the phone. It'd taken some doing, but she'd moved their flight and adjusted their hotel stay. "Ten o'clock flight tomorrow night. We'll need to leave about five," she told the man sitting there. She'd given him a bag of ice and a towel as soon as they'd gotten home

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[questionorigin]

Duela let him sleep, busying herself with packing for the both of them. She wanted to leave as soon as possible. Really, if she'd been able? She'd have gotten them on a flight out of Gotham tonight. Her father's conduct... God, she couldn't believe it. She'd thought he could at least manage to be civil.

After a couple hours, she went back downstairs, peeking into the living room, where she'd left Jonathan to sleep, not having wanted to try taking him up the stairs with as badly as he'd been shaken up. She wouldn't wake him if he was sleeping, but she wanted to check on him.

[arkhams_dr]

Crane was awake - feverish, but awake. He'd thrashed the bedding into a twisted wreck, but now he lay there, still except for his eyes darting side-to-side, unfocused.

It was a delayed response from the chamber, he was sure of it. Some kind of accelerated healing - he'd tried this sort of thing before, many times, with no success. It was working, or seemed to be, but the side effects included a raging fever. Most probably, any serious use of the Chamber would need multiple immersements; Crane could imagine a chemical reaction that would stay potent at this level for repeated uses.

[questionorigin]

Duela slipped into the room, sure he was still asleep, intending to straighten the sheets as best she could without waking him. When she saw his eyes opened, she touched his cheek and felt the heat. Damn. That couldn't be good...

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked, trying to sound less concerned than she was. He never wanted her to worry, so she was trying to sound like she wasn't.

[arkhams_dr]

"No. Yes. Don't leave..." He reached for her hand again, then dropped it. "Yes, water. Water would be good."

[questionorigin]

"I'll only be gone a minute," Duela whispered, touching his hand. "Is that okay? I'm going to get a glass of ice water, and then I'll be right back."

[arkhams_dr]

"Yes," his voice was a harsh whisper. "Come back. Come back, I have things to tell you."

[questionorigin]

Duela left the room but returned quickly with the promised glass of ice water. She knelt by the couch, murmuring as she touched his hair, "You'll have to sit up a bit to drink it."

[arkhams_dr]

He managed to sit, wrapping a hand around hers. "This is the Chamber. I should have guessed, should have known," he drank, then continued, "You need to care for the child. My work..."

[questionorigin]

Duela moved to sit on the couch, turning so he could lean against her if he wanted. "Shhh, you're going to be fine," she whispered, running her free hand through his hair. "The bulk of your work will be waiting for you when we get back from Austria, and I promise I won't distract you too much once we're back."

[arkhams_dr]

"No," he leaned against her. "No, even if not this time - you or the child - remember who you are. You must continue."

He wasn't making a great deal of sense, he knew. The Chamber's lingering effects also seemed to be triggering the psychological malleability he'd added in - like the physical effects, much weaker this time, but the resurgence was troubling. He was scrabbling to cling to himself, retain every fragment of who he could.

[questionorigin]

"Don't talk like that," she whispered, gripping his hand. "You're going to be okay. Nothing's going to happen to you, not for a long time."

She tried to keep her voice steady, free of any wavering, and she fought hard not to cry. It was upsetting, hearing him talk like that, having to face the possibility that he-- brilliant as he was-- was still mortal, still had to die sometime. Still, Jonathan needed her to be strong. Duela promised herself she would be. For him.

[arkhams_dr]

"More dangerous than I thought." The water finished, he twisted his fingers to hers. "So much more." His heart rate was accelerated, and he wasn't sure if it were delirium or if he could actually hear the blood rushing through his system. "You won't let my work end? You won't let me end? You'll keep it alive?"

[questionorigin]

"I promise." Managing to get those words out-- and it had been a struggle-- made Duela start to cry. A few tears escaped, though she fought to hold others back. "But you're going to be okay." She gripped his hand that might tighter. "We're going to go to Austria tomorrow and get married. Then? We're going to raise this child right. You're going to be right beside me, Jonathan. You have to be."

[arkhams_dr]

"Yes, this time, yes." Listening to her allowed him a focal point, letting him cling to the sense of self he needed. "Austria. Cambridge. Verona. The arrangements are made?"

[questionorigin]

"Everything's taken care of," she promised. "I've spoken to the hotels, lengthened our stay where it needs to be done." She stroked his cheek gingerly. Duela felt like she needed to say something, so she went on, softly, "I think it's wonderful that you want me to meet your family."

[arkhams_dr]

"Your family. Our family. They'll arrange the ceremony as you wish. You belong with them."