Think of the Devil

Nineteen

She reached into the shower and started the water, knowing it would take a few moments to warm up. Slowly, she stripped herself of her clothes in front of the mirror. Blood splattered across her face-- Jasper Evans' blood-- and she couldn't help but smear it as she tried to wipe it off. When she couldn't get rid of it, Jane stepped into the shower without giving it a chance to warm up.

The cold water ran down her back as she braced herself against the wall. Tears formed in her eyes as the night replayed in her mind. The picture of Evans' body was seared in her memory, the silence after his death too difficult to ignore as she stood in silence now. While a few tears slipped down her cheeks, she leaned back under the spray and scrubbed at her face. She only stopped when she was certain his blood was gone, the water running clear.

As she stood under the warming water, Jane thought about the night that had transpired. After everything at The Bulletin, Foggy had gotten them a cab to get home. When they'd arrived, Alberto had been pacing down the main aisle of the shop, having seen the news about what happened. She could hear him praying for her as she'd approached. When the pair finally saw each other, they hugged one another as hard as they could. It took almost an hour, the pair trying to comfort the other, but she finally convinced Alberto to go home and get some rest. Foggy was kind enough to buy him a taxi before catching his own, promising Jane that they'd talk soon and exchanging their phone numbers.

It was only after the men had left that she'd allowed herself to start crying. She'd sobbed as she made her way up the stairs. Her hands had shaken as she downed a few swigs of vodka. And now, alone in her shower, she was crying again. She let herself go there, finally comfortable under the hot water. Her voice shook as she let out awful wails and gasps for such a dispiriting night. She mourned Jasper Evans. She cried for the feelings his death had brought her. She sobbed for her total uncertainty. She wept because she couldn't do anything else.

When there finally were no tears left to cry, Jane managed to clean herself up. She felt numb as she stepped out of the shower, going through her normal nighttime routine. She was definitely on autopilot, but going through the motions helped keep her mind from straying. It was easier to focus on one task and then another. Her head was finally quiet after the long night she'd had.

That was, until she heard a familiar voice. He was down the street, but she could hear him clearly as he made his way towards the apartment. She knew he'd said he'd find her later, but as it was nearing two in the morning she figured he would be in for the night. There was no denying the sense of relief she felt when she realized he would be there soon, though. Darting across the hall into her bedroom, she looked for some clothes to put on.

Minutes later, Matt was climbing her fire escape. She was still pulling on fuzzy socks as he slid open the window, crawling in with Scooby in his hold. The cat had been wandering around the back door, waiting to be let in. The vigilante thought it was sort of funny that one stray was letting the other in.

Jane padded down the hallway a few moments later, having found an old band t-shirt and boyshorts to wear. She watched Matt in the darkness, cloaked in a black hoodie, as he let the cat jump from his arms onto the floor. He reached out to turn her lamp on for her benefit before his hands slid defensively back into his sweatshirt's pockets. She stopped only a foot or so into the room.

He was tense, that familiar storm of emotions churning inside him. He was trying to hold back, trying to quiet his internal monologue, but it was proving more difficult tonight. Instead, it manifested into a strange cerebral hum. It made her anxiety build in her stomach, wondering what he would say. All of her nerves, all of her guilt, and all of her worst fears came flooding back to her as she waited for him to say something. He picked up on this, and it only made the tides within him rage harder.