Karen's dreams have always come in strange waves, and this has intensified somewhat since she moved to Britannia. She'll have a few nights that are tolerable, or even free of the dreams altogether; then a rash of the bad ones, the really awful ones, full of fear, of grief and desolation and a kind of angry loneliness that she never wants to admit to feeling when she's awake in her own life.
The worst of these is always the one where they come to fetch her out of her rooms, and she's heard all the commotion so she already knows where they're taking her, and they take her to that strange, cold little room and show her his corpse. And the only part of any of it that makes her feel strong is that she is so angry, so brokenly angry, that she feels if she were a man she'd take their blades from them and drop them all where they stand. But all she can do is be the harridan they all know her for, and flash and rage at them, and drive them out of the room so they'll leave her alone with him. Leave her alone with him and he isn't even there anymore.
It's this one she wakes from, and Karen feels it can't have been more than twenty minutes since she lay down, exhausted, to go to sleep, even though the clock tells her otherwise. She's doing that weird crying thing she hates where she can't get her breath and she feels like someone's taken everything out of her chest. It's an emptiness that's vicious, and she is alone in this house that's too big for one person, and for just a minute, she fucking hates it here.
But then she thinks, no, he's here and I can go and see him.
After a little while, it's almost morning, and so she puts on her coat and goes into town. She gets some coffee (she's off today) and goes to the park and lies down on a cold bench wishing that she had a stupid, self-destructive hobby to shorten her life with. Smoking, maybe, or base jumping. After she's finished her coffee, she gets up and walks to Gary's apartment building.
She would really much rather see him alive.