[Later, after being
being medically cleared, Clementine made her way on
home. She considered stopping and messaging Graham, but Graham and Shane were both on Evie's group lock about Jack, and she figured they knew she hadn't gone dying in any fires. Simple as it was, she was trying to steer clear as could be of whatever was brewing with Shane and Graham, letting them settle themselves and sort out whatever they were feeling for each other, and she figured she'd hear if they needed her. Now, Penny, Penny would be getting a call come morning, once there'd been some sleeping and resting.
But, for now, Clem dragged herself on up to her apartment, the old Gotham familiarity of it hitting her hard and fast when she shoved at the door. She needed to check on her own patient, who she'd abandoned to go inhale a whole lot of smoke.
She was still dressed in her FDNY greys, and she had some boots on her yellow-dot-socked feet. The bandage on her head was white, covering stitches and angled, and she smelled like smoke when she closed the door behind her. The couch beckoned real loud, but she wandered right on into the guest room, dropping her bag as she went, keen on checking on Matt. Her voice was hoarse, sandpaper rubbing over raw, and more air than sound.] Honey, you awake yet?
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