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Ever since her bastard of a father left her to fend for herself in the freezing Gotham winter, Helena had harbored a deep-seated hatred for the cold. It had gotten better in recent years. She no longer wore long sleeve shirts or pants during the summer like she once did. However, there was always a jacket tied around her waist no matter the temperature.
Helena shivered, pulling her blankets closer around her in an attempt to starve off the chill. Minutes passed by and the chill persisted, even though she was under two blankets and wearing thermal pajamas.
Sitting up, Helena grimaced at the achiness of her limbs. Was she getting sick? Wrapping one of her blankets around her in a mockery of a coat, Helena quietly hobbled out of the room, careful not to wake Harper.
Her descent down the stairs was agonizingly slow as she took one stair at a time, limbs screaming in protest with each step. She felt like crying, something very unlike her. And to make matters worse, now her head hurt.
Finally, her socked feet touched the hard wood of the ground floor. Tightening the blanket around her shoulders, she made for the fireplace.
Her parents had installed it at her insistence after a particularly cold patrol night. Everyone had agreed it was a good investment.
Without removing her hand from the blanket, Helena flicked the switch on the wall beside the fireplace. The flames ignited with a crackle and hiss, illuminating the room as she burrito-ed herself in front of fireplace. Cocooned in warmth, Helena sighed as she soaked up the heat. However, the chill was still there, just under the skin.
Helena whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She just wanted to be warm!
“Helena? Sweetie, is that you?”
Helena shuffled around so she could peer over her shoulder. “Dad?” she croaked, swallowing a bit to try to relieve the pain in her throat. Since when had it been sore?
Her Dad knelt down beside her, giving her a concerned look. “Are you feeling okay?”
She shook her head. “Cold.”
“Helena. There is no way you could be cold right now. You’re sweating like crazy.” He then got up and turned off the fireplace.
“Turn it back on.”
“No. Now come on, let’s get you on the couch.” Helping her up, her Dad practically carried her over to the couch where she curled up in a fetal position. He then placed a hand on her forehead, frowning as he did. Despite it being cold, Helena couldn’t help but lean into the touch. It felt nice for some reason.
“I’ll be right back.”
Helena made a sound of acknowledgment, eyelids heavy. Yet, every time she attempted to close them her eyes stung and watered. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but suddenly Dad was in front of her, putting a few Tylenol in her hand and a glass of water.
She made a face at the chalky purple medicine. Whoever had created grape flavored medicine clearly didn’t know what grapes tasted like. Dad must have noticed her expression because he sighed.
“I know you hate them, but it will make you feel better.”
Preparing herself, she took a shaky breath before popping the medicine into her mouth and gnashing her teeth. Quickly she gulped down the water, the taste of the medicine causing a shiver to go down her spine.
Handing over the empty glass, Helena laid back down. Ignoring the sting, she closed her eyes.
“Do you want me to stay down here with you?” Her Dad asked, stroking her damp hair.
Normally, she would have said no, but in a moment of weakness she just nodded and said, “Please.”