No Rest For The Wicked

1

Jonathan hoisted himself up from his chair after setting his book aside to see who could be knocking on his chamber door at this hour. He already guessed who it most likely was, but just to be sure he looked through the peep hole to see a familiar face. "Hello dear Hatter." He greeted when he opened the door, leaving it open wide enough for him to enter. "You look like you've been to hell and back." He commented on his roughed up appearance.

Jervis Tetch squeezed himself inside the home, looking over at the taller man. "It feels like I have honestly." He said back, stretching his limps that have been confined in one position for so long. The Hatter was drained from the boring walls he had to be in for the past few days, and it really showed without the mad man realizing.

"Do you need some help patching yourself up?" Jonathan offered, returning to his book to mark the page after closing and locking the door again.

"I can do it myself... But I would appreciate the help, thank you." He replied, watching as the other lanky man slid a piece of paper into a dusty old book then head into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he started scooping out ice cubes, then proceeded to roll them up all together in a cloth, securely tying it together to create a home made ice pack. It was done in a matter of minutes and when it was he handed it to Jervis who had taken a seat on the dirty couch.

It was a good thing Crane didn't own anything 'nice.' Sometimes.

Applying the cold ice pack to where he was hurt, Jervis mumbled a "thank you," still quietly looking around. "Where's William by the way?" He eventually asked, his head still pounding from the blows he received days ago.

"In the bathroom." Crane replied, then added after returning to his chair, "He's been in there all morning."

"Wait what?" Worry twisted onto the Hatter's features a bit, remembering the cuts on his son's arms and wanting to check on the boy but trying to restrain himself.