Rain, rain, go away, come again another day... She hummed to herself, the soft, slightly off-key sound contrasting oddly with the rain's drizzle. The drops misted down persistently and dampened, darkened everything. The town felt de-saturated under this spell, quieter, emptier. She shivered and quickened her pace a bit. Temperance didn't hate the rain, but it was cold and icy, stinging across the bits of her skin it reached. Of course, she had her rain boots and umbrella - a clear thing covered in frogs. But... ah, this umbrella wasn't hers. It was black and big and drooped down over her eyes if she didn't hold it just so. Had she picked up the wrong one at work? Frowning, she twirled it, looking to see if, by chance, someone had written a name on it anywhere.

Nothing. Well, she hadn't expected it, really. Temperance never wrote her name on her things either - too long, too much effort. Her hand reached up to pull at the wet brim of the umbrella in an idle gesture. She'd have to take the wrongfully borrowed umbrella back to the lab, of course, and on her day off. She groaned and then immediately stopped herself, shocked by how loud the noise sounded around her. It was only then that she noticed exactly how deserted the street was. Well, she thought nervously, it was late and raining: that'd drive anyone from the streets, right? And it was late; Temperance had worked until close on the one day the lab was open into the night. This was all normal. Still, her hand slipped into her bag, curling around her key chain. The metal cat ears of it pointed out, sharp tips waiting for someone to jab.

Temperance looked around for any sign of, well, anyone. Her pace picked up again; she was overcome by the strangest urge just to get home. It prickled up from the base of her spine into her hair. There was no point in lying to herself: something wasn't right, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her parent's endless lectures about safety and living alone drummed in her ears but this... this was different. It was more than a normal night's walk; and yet, it felt familiar, somehow. Of course it would feel familiar. Of course it would! Temperance laughed a little, breathlessly. She'd walked this route a hundred times. It would feel familiar; she was just being silly. Still, she couldn't bring her pace to slow. The sooner she was home, the better. It was just so quiet...

Suddenly, she stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, her quickened pace increasing her clumsiness. Temperance fell heavily on one knee, hissing as she felt the scrape of concrete. Great, she'd gone and scraped up her knee. Temperance knew she was a card-carrying member of Team Mysterious Leg Bruise, but this was more annoying. She blinked, the petrichoric smell of the rain filling her nostrils as she inhaled sharply. No, this was familiar because she'd dreamt it before. This street, the rain, the way it drizzled and how the streetlamps seemed dimmer. Temperance had seen it all before. Did that mean she was dreaming now? She jerked her head up, eyes flickering around wildly. It was also so silent, here, too. What if she...

Temperance drew in a deep breath and screamed.

---------------

She shot up in bed, a gasp on her lips. Temperance's chest heaved as her hands patted around her wildly, tangling in the sheets. Yes, she was definitely in her bed, in her apartment. Snatching up her stuffed rabbit, she held it to chest, the soft give of the rabbit's fur comforting. The alarm clock glowed nearby: four o'clock in the morning. Definitely a dream. She'd been dreaming a lot lately of Ashdown, but an empty one. It made her uneasy for some reason and disturbed her sleep. The dreams always felt like they left a film on her skin, something barely tangible but there - a layer she couldn't shake off. Taking a deep breath, she flung the covers back and swung her legs out of bed. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep.

Standing, she winced. Her knee stung, the movement of standing pulling on a scab. A scab she didn't have before going to bed. Temperance sat back down on her bed with a heavy thump, gingerly touching her knee. She'd skinned it, sure, but that was in the dream. Maybe she was sleep walking, too. Groaning, she flopped back on the bed. First shitty sleep, now sleep-walking? Huffing irritably, she made a note to pick up some sleeping aids next time she was at the pharmacy.