His hands still shook as he buried them deep into his coat pockets, fingers clenched tightly into fists. He had been on edge the whole day after waking up from that nightmare and couldn't wait for work hours to end.

When it was time to leave the research center, he couldn't bring himself to return to his apartment in the Narrows either.

He didn't want to be alone.

His footsteps led him down a familiar path, although he wasn't sure whether it was a good idea. Eventually, he found himself standing in front of the door to Charlize's house.

He reached out to ring the doorbell, but stopped. He had only ever come there in the mornings for his sessions. It was half past nine right then, and the sky had darkened.

There was a chance the psychiatrist had gone to bed early or was doing something else, so he thought he should rather not disturb her. He let out the breath he was holding, turning to leave, but his feet were rooted to the steps leading up to the gate.

Jonathan couldn't decide what to do. However, the sound of crackling thunder shook him out of his dilemma, and as the sky pierced open to pour down nature's waterworks, he scrambled back to the door before he got drenched.

The small foyer offered temporary shade from the rain, but he couldn't stay there the whole night, either. Struggling between the two difficult options, he finally pressed the bell.

Shortly after, an eye peeped through the visor, and the door opened, revealing Charlize. Jonathan looked up, though he had been staring at the puddles earlier, his blue eyes meeting her concerned brown irises.

"Jonathan? It's raining. How long were you outside for?"

"Not long... I came to talk if that's convenient with you. I didn't know it would start raining," he replied, bracing himself for a refusal that surprisingly didn't come.

"No worries, come in."

Kindness or sympathy-those two words could be interchangeable if viewed from his perspective. However, those emotions often conflicted him because he couldn't understand the motives that fueled them.

Jonathan was careful not to soil the floor as he stepped in, leaving his shoes by the door. She told him to remove the coat and hang it up for drying. The marble flooring was cold as he followed Charlize inside.

"Would you wait here a second?" She told him, and he obliged, watching her go to the table where her laptop was open.

He couldn't see what she was doing before he came, but he had realized she was busy.

"Honey, I'll talk to you later, okay?" It seemed as if she was on a video call with someone and had paused it to answer the door. "It's getting late for your bedtime, too, and your dad won't let me hear the end of it if I keep you awake further. Yeah... Take care of yourself. I love you too."

She shut down her laptop and gestured to Jonathan to come in. He noticed she hadn't had dinner either and had to cut the call short with whoever she was talking to. He immediately felt terrible that he had intruded at that time.

"I see what you're thinking," she remarked, startling him slightly, "I wasn't busy, and I don't mind that you came over. At least now I'll have company for dinner."

She had offered him a smile as she went to the kitchen to bring plates for both of them.

"I... I'd rather not..."

"Why not? Granted, I'm not a great cook, but it's not that bad either," she replied. Sensing his discomfort, she added, "Unless you have something very urgent to tell me, then we can have dinner later."

He shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. Please don't delay due to me."

Her eyes softened, taking in that he looked troubled. But then perhaps he was looking for a distraction, so he came there. He would talk eventually, but he had to compose himself before that.

"Alright then, grab a seat. And don't be shy," she had disappeared into the kitchen again, returning with a dish of boiled rice with sesame chicken. "Oh, I forgot to ask, are you a vegetarian? I can whip up something else quickly, then."

He shook his head, "No need, thank you."

Jonathan realized he hadn't eaten anything after that sandwich he had bought from the cafeteria in the morning. He was hungry, too, but he had ignored it before that.

He easily skipped the last meal of the day, so it felt weird sitting there at Charlize's dining table at the moment.

Charlize knew he would feel awkward, so as she passed him the dish, she started talking to keep him occupied. "My daughter loves sesame chicken with rice. So it's the only dinner I can say for certain that I'm an expert in."

It was the first time she had mentioned anything about her family, so it took him by surprise. "Your daughter?"

She nodded, "Yes, her name's Gabriella, but we call her Ella for short. I was talking to her on video call before you came."

"Oh... I'm sorry I interrupted."

"Not at all... It really was past her bedtime, and her father is slightly strict with schedules, so I was about to hang up anyway," she remarked. The way she had casually mentioned the father, it would make anyone else curious, but he didn't ask.

He knew her personal life was none of his concern.

She noticed he was just sitting awkwardly, so she tried to diffuse the tension, "Why are you so surprised? Do I not look old enough to have a kid?"

He felt a blush creep over his face, and he busied himself in taking the food and placing the dish of rice back on the table. "No, I mean... Never mind."

"It was a joke," she added, "and it got you to focus on the food, so I'd say mission accomplished."

He paused, looking down at the plate that he had filled halfway. "Ah, I see."

"How was your day?" She asked, shaking him out of his thoughts again. He took another bite before answering.

"I came here to talk about that, but after dinner," he replied, and she could see that mask of reservation fall over his features again.

"Sure, of course."

In her way, she was making sure that he ate, and the food wasn't bad either. In fact, it was much better than anything Jonathan could cook himself. It reminded him that his cooking skills were getting rusted, and perhaps he needed to put some effort into the kitchen.

He didn't remember the last time he had sat down to dinner with someone else. Tim used to come to his place during the day, so he accompanied him for breakfasts or lunches but never for dinner.

Dinner was a hassle, one that he avoided often. But right then, Charlize made him feel comfortable enough to stay and not get worried about the things he had to tell her later.

He simply listened to her telling him about her day at Arkham and how Miguel was much happier because his wife had returned with the kids.

The gentle timbre of her voice—one that he had grown accustomed to hearing each time he struggled to pull himself out of the darkness—assured him that he was in a safe place. Whatever he shared with her wouldn't be used against him.

Trust was a gamble Jonathan didn't resort to often. But just that once, he could make an exception.

***