[backdated to not long after this, very early Monday morn]
Phone calls were for emergencies. Especially at this hour, with all the potential disasters lurking in the horizon, and she needed answers now. Or something of a comforting voice on the other line, perhaps.
It'd come, finally. All the darkness they were so afraid of, and it'd come into her bedroom, literally tore Killian away from her arms and engulfed him - he was elsewhere, reborn, and while instinct told her to put clothes on to get the hell out and look for him, she didn't know where to start.
One might say a tornado had gone through her room. Sadly, it wasn't far from the truth, and after making herself somewhat decent (as in clothes), adrenaline was somewhat expelled by the constant pacing while she waited for Neal to pick up the goddamn phone.