OTC 49.5: What scares you?
[Previously OTC 23.1: What scares you? Also for muse_shuffle June, Disk 1, Track 1: White Chalk, by PJ Harvey. Set significantly into the future. Characters used with love, if not permission.]
Dorset's cliffs meet at the sea
Where I walked
(Our unborn child in me)
White chalk
(Poor scattered land)
It's early June and Gotham is muggy. Hot and muggy, and Cissie still has four weeks before the baby is born. Even with air conditioning, sleep is almost impossible between the heat and being completely incapable of finding a comfortable position. It is nearly four am, and Tim is not home yet. It is later than usual, but not so much later that Cissie is especially concerned. Not any more than she usually is when he goes out, anyway. Besides, his side of the bed is currently occupied by a gray cat and a just-shy-of-four year old. Sadie's caught some kind of summer flu, and it's just easier for Cissie to care for her if she is in the same room.
Sadie has finally fallen asleep, and Cissie is close to following her when the phone rings. The sound literally tears Cissie's breath away. She's not even sure how she manages to sit up and reach for the phone, but she is answering it before she fully realizes she is awake.
"Cissie? It's Dick." Cissie can't breathe. There's no air, and her throat has closed up and maybe her heart has even stopped beating. But the baby chooses that moment to kick, hard, and it jolts her. She places her hand on her belly and realizes that the world hasn't stopped turning. "Don't worry. Everything's okay."
Somehow, that makes it worse. Everything's okay at least means no one is dead--ohGodhecouldhavebeen--but the fact that he said it means there is something to worry about and he is trying to protect her. Phone calls in the middle of the night are never for good reasons. "What happened?" She is surprised her voice is this calm.
"It's Tim." Of course it's Tim. She knew that the second the phone rang. It's Tim, and there she goes, unable to breathe again. She is light-headed and dizzy and this is a scene from her very worst nightmares. But no matter what she does, she isn't waking up.
"He's all right, Ciss," Dick continues, keeping his voice even and soothing. "He just took a good blow to the head tonight. Alfred's checking him out right now, but I think we're going to keep him here for a while, just to keep an eye on him. I just thought you should know, so you don't worry when he doesn't come home tonight."
Don't worry. Don't worry. It's laughable, but she manages not to. She somehow manages to thank Dick for calling and make him promise to have Tim call her when Alfred okays it before she hangs up the phone.
Cissie has no idea how long she spends just sitting up in bed, rubbing her stomach absently, before Sadie stirred next to her. "Mommy?"
Cissie shakes herself a little and manages a smile, brushing Sadie's hair back. "Hi, baby."
Sadie blinks up at her sleepily. "I don't feel good."
"I know, sweetheart." She's still feverish, but less so than earlier.
"Is Daddy home yet?"
It takes everything to answer her calmly. "Not yet."
Sadie pouts sleepily and snuggles closer, sounding so sad when she says, "But I want Daddy..."
Cissie rubs her daughter's back gently, feels the baby moving inside her, and all she can do is think that all it would take is a phone call to make her a single parent. "I know. He'll be home when you wake up."
Dorset's cliffs meet at the sea
Where I walked
(Our unborn child in me)
White chalk
(Poor scattered land)
It's early June and Gotham is muggy. Hot and muggy, and Cissie still has four weeks before the baby is born. Even with air conditioning, sleep is almost impossible between the heat and being completely incapable of finding a comfortable position. It is nearly four am, and Tim is not home yet. It is later than usual, but not so much later that Cissie is especially concerned. Not any more than she usually is when he goes out, anyway. Besides, his side of the bed is currently occupied by a gray cat and a just-shy-of-four year old. Sadie's caught some kind of summer flu, and it's just easier for Cissie to care for her if she is in the same room.
Sadie has finally fallen asleep, and Cissie is close to following her when the phone rings. The sound literally tears Cissie's breath away. She's not even sure how she manages to sit up and reach for the phone, but she is answering it before she fully realizes she is awake.
"Cissie? It's Dick." Cissie can't breathe. There's no air, and her throat has closed up and maybe her heart has even stopped beating. But the baby chooses that moment to kick, hard, and it jolts her. She places her hand on her belly and realizes that the world hasn't stopped turning. "Don't worry. Everything's okay."
Somehow, that makes it worse. Everything's okay at least means no one is dead--ohGodhecouldhavebeen--but the fact that he said it means there is something to worry about and he is trying to protect her. Phone calls in the middle of the night are never for good reasons. "What happened?" She is surprised her voice is this calm.
"It's Tim." Of course it's Tim. She knew that the second the phone rang. It's Tim, and there she goes, unable to breathe again. She is light-headed and dizzy and this is a scene from her very worst nightmares. But no matter what she does, she isn't waking up.
"He's all right, Ciss," Dick continues, keeping his voice even and soothing. "He just took a good blow to the head tonight. Alfred's checking him out right now, but I think we're going to keep him here for a while, just to keep an eye on him. I just thought you should know, so you don't worry when he doesn't come home tonight."
Don't worry. Don't worry. It's laughable, but she manages not to. She somehow manages to thank Dick for calling and make him promise to have Tim call her when Alfred okays it before she hangs up the phone.
Cissie has no idea how long she spends just sitting up in bed, rubbing her stomach absently, before Sadie stirred next to her. "Mommy?"
Cissie shakes herself a little and manages a smile, brushing Sadie's hair back. "Hi, baby."
Sadie blinks up at her sleepily. "I don't feel good."
"I know, sweetheart." She's still feverish, but less so than earlier.
"Is Daddy home yet?"
It takes everything to answer her calmly. "Not yet."
Sadie pouts sleepily and snuggles closer, sounding so sad when she says, "But I want Daddy..."
Cissie rubs her daughter's back gently, feels the baby moving inside her, and all she can do is think that all it would take is a phone call to make her a single parent. "I know. He'll be home when you wake up."