Who: Iris / Alfred Pennyworth
What: Memories Plot
Things to avoid: Are you kidding, this is Iris. When have I avoided anything with her? (Translation: Nothing.)
Was she stable? By a medical definition, she doubted that she ever was. But her moods had calmed and everything had retreated once again into its cotton swaddling. It was enough that she could at least function, and function meant that she needed to let Alfred back through the door. No matter what Luke had said, she knew in her heart that Bruce needed Alfred, and it was what she could do to deliver.
The dizziness and slight roll of her stomach was ignored, blamed on the once-again rising levels of medication in her system. It would take a while for everything to settle again, and she sighed at a slight wave of nausea. The abrupt turning of the cab she'd called to take her to the hotel did nothing to help, but she ignored it as they pulled up to the front of Passages. Climbing out of the car, the ground seemed to shift again with her vertigo, and she clenched fingers tight around the car's door frame. A moment passed, the driver peering back and asking if she was alright, but she simply waved his questions away and headed for the front door of the building. Her steps wove and she finally began to worry, because that wasn't quite normal, not even as a pharmaceutical side-effect. She hurried, wanting to be inside, and made it as far as a dusty chair in the lobby before she needed to sit down, her legs giving out beneath her.