Bodyslam

Lungblower

"I don't have any details," Kevin's voice is strained in a way Mitch can't ever remember hearing it. "His roommate had to call an ambulance this morning. He couldn't breathe and collapsed in the kitchen. They took him to Providence St. Joseph. That's all I know, and someone needs to be there for him."

"Is he, um...is he -?" Mitch can't bring himself to finish the question.

"As far as I know he's alive," Kevin says, hesitantly. "He was semi-conscious when the paramedics took him and he was breathing, just not very well. All I know is what his roommate told me. He called me from Mikey's phone, and I tried to call the hospital but they couldn't tell me anything, and Esther's phone is going straight to voicemail so I can't even get any clues from her, and I have no idea what's going on, and..." he trails off, and for the first time in the nearly twelve years they've known each other Kevin looks helpless. "You've got the emergency medical forms, right? This is our just in case situation, so that someone other than Es has them?"

"Yeah," Mitch pushes himself up to a sitting position, looking over to give Scott a nod in response to his whispered "coffee" and squeeze of the hand before he awkwardly clambers over Mitch and out of bed. "Yeah, right, this is the just in case thing. And I have the forms on my laptop downstairs. What the fuck, Kev? An ambulance? I can't...I don't understand what's happening. Just..." he lays the phone on the nightstand. "Keep talking, I need to get dressed."

"I don't understand either," Kevin's voice echoes through the loft as Mitch squirms painfully to the edge of the bed and then to his feet. "Doc cleared him after his match, he was fine. Did he...did he take anything at the party last night?"

"I don't think so," Mitch calls out before returning with the first shirt and pair of pants he lays hands on from the neat stack of his clothes taking up an increasing portion of Scott's closet. "Probably didn't have anything other than a couple drinks, he gave me his weed when...oh." Mitch pauses, halfway into his shirt. Scott had said something about Mikey not feeling well, right?

"Oh, what?"

"He left early last night. Said he felt like shit, I think? I don't...I was outside when he left, I didn't see him but..." Now dressed, Mitch retrieves his phone and heads down the stairs towards the smell of brewing coffee. "What am I supposed to do when I get there?"

"I think..." Kevin frowns. "Start at the ER since he came in by ambulance? And just try to find him from there?"

"Right, okay," the more he moves the more aware and focused he feels, and by the time Mitch makes it to the kitchen he even has enough of his faculties to keep Scott's very naked self pouring coffee into two mugs out of view of the camera. "Let me get caffeinated and on the road. I'll call you as soon as I know anything, you call one of us with any updates."

That settled, Mitch ends the call and turns most of his attention to the mug being held out to him. "Thanks," he says quietly, already starting to map out the next hour or so of his day. "You don't have to go if you don't want to, I can drive."

"Fuck no," comes the response almost before he stops speaking. "I'm going. You don't need to do this alone. Just tell me if you want me to drive your car or if you'd rather take an Uber there."

"My car?" Mitch frowns, but then he remembers. "Oh yeah."

"Right," Scott swallows a gulp of coffee, wincing. "Fuck, that's hot. I'll worry about getting mine from Renny's some other time, it's no big deal. Let's just get to the hospital. You want me to drive?"

Why is this even a question? "Of course. Are you going like that?"

It's enough to ease a tiny bit of the palpable fear and tension weighing the entire apartment down. "If you want me to," Scott half grins.