Doors

I guess if I'm going to keep reading this thing, I should commit and write something myself. Still don't entirely believe any of you are real. Then I don't know shit about Harry Potter or comic books. People have strokes and develop a different accent or can speak a language they never studied. Maybe you can get hit in the head and wake up a dissociative nerd...

Any tips on shutting the voice up? Mine is [pause] opinionated. And more into dragons than a high schooler who started his own metal band... It's getting embarrassing.

-E.F.

[It's been an age since she's been back through and thinking about this, and the fact that Snow never checked in. She just about forces Will through the door and sits down in the hayloft of the barn the hotel dropped her into. As always, the writing is messy, dirty finger smudges on the page.]

Are you alive? Out of the woods?

Should I be impressed that I taught Max how to bring me a beer?

[After a few days of convalescing (mostly sleeping) in the Batcave, during which she keeps dragging herself back through the door every twenty hours or so, in order not to get kicked. As Catwoman.]

[Locked to Luke H]
Breaking things yet, antihero?

[Locked to Jade C]
Long time no talk, fence.

[Locked to Silver M]
You sure were easy to run off.

Show of (metaphorical) hands, who thinks their person through the door is going to get them or someone they care about killed one of these days? And, building on that, who's getting sick and tired of not being able to do anything about it?