Day 13 (spooooky)

Andrew:

It getting him out of there was borderline impossible. It wasn't that the rest of the crowd wasn't more than willing to help me now that he wasn't being entertaining anymore, it was that drunk, passed-out people become limp dead weight upon the first attempt to move them. Eventually, I grabbed his hands and someone else grabbed his feet, and we hauled him out like a sack.

Then, once I was outside, I dialed 911. His pupils were going funny, and his heart rate was weird. I was getting a little worried myself, now. When the paramedics arrived, the looks on their faces proved to me that I'd chosen the right course. "Excuse me, sir, what relation are you to him?" one paramedic asked me, as the others got him loaded and stabilized and a bunch of other worrying actions.

"Uh, boss, friend of his sister, and search-and rescue operative," I said. I might have been a little in shock at the whole flashing lights bit, because that is not what I would have said under normal circumstances. "I mean, I'm the one who found him."

"He's in pretty bad condition, and we can't find his wallet," she told me. "Do you have contact information for any relatives?"

"I do, actually," I said, pulling my wallet and Morgan's business card from within. "Thank you, sir. What relation is she?"

"Um, cousin, I believe. She was worried about him, so she'd probably waiting by the phone right now." I stopped. "Crap, I haven't told her yet. She's got to be freaking out."

The rest of the conversation passed in a bit of a blur, because I was paying way more attention to feeling guilty about Morgan likely being off at the office, freaking out. I was a champion guilt-feeler, and this was perfect circumstances for it.

As soon as I could get away, I did, and called her. "Andrew?" she asked. She was definitely sounding worried now.

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "I found Nathan."

"Oh, thank god," she said. Then, "Wait, is he okay? Found does not mean okay. Tell me he's okay."

"Well," I said, hesitating, "He's not dead."

Morgan started cursing, vehemently, strongly, and at length. "... Shit," she finished, loudly enough that I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Then, more calmly, she said, "How bad is it?"

"The paramedics say he's probably going to be fine," I said, "But he's going to need to have his stomach pumped, probably, and he's going to be hungover for the next week or three."

Silence. Then, almost inaudibly, "What hospital?"

"Midtown," I said. There was a click on the other end of the line. I looked at my phone. Then I said, "Screw it," and started walking towards Midtown.

Tammany:

After about two hours, when Andrew had yet to text me about what a pain Nathan was - his favorite subject, and apparently his only conversation starter with me - I started getting a little paranoid. What if Nathan had actually ended up in trouble? God, I was going to feel no end of guilty for making fun of him if he'd been off lying in a ditch somewhere. So I texted him /where r u?/

He didn't respond. In my admittedly so far meager experience, he would text back at all times, unless he was dead, unconscious, or watching Doctor Who. He would have gone to work if he'd found Nathan. I text him again. Nothing.

I tried to just ignore it, write it off as nothing. Everyone lost their phones occasionally. This was just his turn. But as time passed, I was less and less able to focus.

I looked at Cale, who'd managed to get himself upright long enough to end up draped over the counter. He'd stopped moaning in favor of mumbling incoherently whenever I spoke to him. "You've got the front for a bit," I said. "I'm going to go make a phone call."

He mumbled at me. I caught 'hate,' 'evil,' and 'sleep,' but the rest was too slurred to make out.

"You do that," I said, and went in the back to call Grace.

"Mmmlo?" she answered. She sounded half asleep.

"Are you awake right now?" I asked. "And do you know where your brother is, by chance?" Then I realized exactly how creepy I was being, calling my employee on her off day to find out where her brother (who was uninterested in me, apparently) was, simply because I was paranoid because he wasn't answering his phone. I made the face of the overly attached girlfriend at myself in the shiny surface of the freezer.

"Yeah, he's at the hospital," she said. My heart fell about to my feet. "Apparently he's keeping an eye on that Nathan guy. He partied hard last night. Like, really hard."

"Thanks," I said, not sure whether to feel bad or relieved, and compromising on bad that I was relieved. "Just wanted to make sure he hadn't wandered off to the sketchy part of town and gotten himself shanked."

"No, he's all good," she said. There was a murmur in the background. "Oh, just Tammy, from last night," Grace said, muffled like her hand was over the receiver. "I'll be done in a minute, babe."

My eyebrows went up. Unexpected connection, her and what's-his-name, the disliked duo's friend. “Alright, see you tomorrow,” I said, and hung up, giving them their privacy. I walked back out front, to find Cale standing perfectly vertical and dealing with some customers in a completely mature manner. He gave me a honeyed glance before handing the man a ham sandwich and ringing him up.

Once the man was out the door, I said, “I’m glad to know that in times of adversity, you can still function.”

“Bury yourself in in a hole and die,” he said, before easing himself down onto the couch and covering his eyes again.