The Hangover, Part 1. (Phil Wenneck X OC.)

Chapter 6.

Now in front of the hotel, Phil was working on getting the valet for the Mercedes while Brooklyn, Alan, Stu and Carlos waited for him. Carlos was back in the baby carrier on Alan with his big sunglasses covering his face.

Brooklyn had to admit, while she wasn't feeling the best about herself or the situation, Carlos did look adorable with huge sunglasses on, covering almost all of his little face.

Stu was just looking at Alan with a concerned look. "So, uh, are you sure you're qualified to be taking care of that baby?"

Alan just looked at Stu with a slightly offended expression. "What are you talking about? I've found a baby before."

"You've found a baby before?" Stu repeated Alan, only growing more concerned.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"Coffee Bean."

Stu was about to question his cohort again before deciding to leave it alone, choosing to glance at Brooklyn, who was anxiously tapping her foot against the pavement of the sidewalk a few feet away from them.

"You alright there, Brooks?" He asked, making Brooklyn glance at him for a second before tightening her lips into a line and turning away from him.

Stu knew exactly what that gesture meant. He's known Brooklyn long enough to know she was definitely not alright.

She was doing her best not to break her composure. But she was slowly losing her grip on it as her shoulders started violently shaking.

Phil came back before Stu could ask her anymore questions. "What's going on?"

Stu kept his eyes on Brooklyn, making Phil look at her as well. "You and I both know what's going on," He said, knowing Phil knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Should we ask her about it or just leave her alone?" Phil asked, sipping on his go-cup of coffee. Stu shrugged his shoulders.

"All I know is that she's not going to blow up on you, so I'd suggest you ask if she actually is okay," He answered, leaving it at that before stepping back a bit. Phil took a deep breath before asking Stu to hold onto his coffee.

Slowly, very slowly approaching Brooklyn as if she was an attack dog about to murder, he very, very carefully set a hand on her left shoulder, mindful of her new tattoo. "Brooks?"

And right after the sentence/question left Phil's lips, Brooklyn immediately turned around and hid her face in Phil's shoulder, her hands in violently shaking fists pressed against his chest as waves of anxious tears forced themselves out of her eyes, muffled sobs leaving her lips.

"I know," Phil whispered into her hair, his arms protectively wrapped around her shoulders, just holding her as she cried. "I know, baby. It's gonna be okay," He continued, gently holding a hand on the back of Brooklyn's head as he gently kissed her forehead on her hairline. "It's gonna be okay."

Sniffling, Brooklyn looked up at Phil, nearly craning her neck completely 90 degrees due to Phil's height compared to hers. "I just wanna go home..." She cried, nearly hyperventilating at how fast her heart was beating. Phil gently grasped Brooklyn's face in his large, warm hands and looked deep into her teary eyes.

"I know. We're going to be okay, baby. We'll go to the hospital, see what they know and go from there. I promise you that whatever happens, we are going to find Doug and get him back home. I've never lied to you before and I never plan to so I need you to just calm down and trust me on this, okay?" He asked, his soft voice back as he gently rested his forehead down on Brooklyn's.

Heartbeat slowing down, Brooklyn took a deep breath before nodding slightly. "Okay."

"Good girl," Phil whispered, gently pressing a kiss onto Brooklyn's forehead before carefully pulling her in for a hug.

"Thank you," Brooklyn thanked, her arms wrapped tight around Phil's back as she took another breath, referring to helping her calm down.

"Any time," Phil whispered back, one last kiss on Brooklyn's temple before letting her go and walking her back over to Alan and Stu, a hand wrapped gently around her back.

"Hey, Phil, I don't think we should take the Mercedes," Alan said, worried expression on his face.

"Relax, we'll be careful," Phil replied, a now calmer Brooklyn at his side as he took his coffee back from Stu.

"It's just that my dad is crazy about that car and he left Doug in charge—."

"Alan," Phil interrupted, cutting Alan off as a crane began beeping behind him. "We got bigger problems here. Doug could be in the hospital, he could be hurt. Okay? Let's worry about the car later."

"Uh guys," Stu spoke up, turning the other's attention on him. "Check it out."

He pointed up, towards where the crane was beeping, Brooklyn's knees almost buckled. Where Stu was pointing, they could see a large mattress impaled on a statue on the roof. It was Doug's.

How in the fuck did they get his mattress up there?

"Is that the mattress from Doug's room?" Alan asked to anyone willing to answer.

"What the fuck?" Phil muttered, then looked around til he found a man in a golfing uniform packing his car trunk with clubs. "Hey man, what's going on here?" He asked.

The man turned around to where Phil were referring to and shrugged. "Some asshole threw his bed out the window last night," He answered, just as confused as the rest.

"No shit."

"Yeah. Some guys just can't handle Vegas," The man said, closing his trunk and entering the drivers seat.

"Oh god," Stu muttered, having to turn away from the situation.

"We're gonna be okay, Stu," Phil comforted, gently patting Stu's back as he looked back at the mattress. "How the fuck did we manage that?"

Brooklyn shrugged. "This day just keeps getting worse."

Soon after Brooklyn closed her mouth, a cop car came to a screeching halt in front of them, the valet boy instead of a cop hopping out of the drivers seat. "Here's your car, officers," He said, the keys in hand while they just stared at the car.

Sure, Brooklyn may be the Sergeant in her precinct back in L.A., but what the fuck did they do to end up with a cop car?

"Alright, everybody act cool. Ok? Don't say a word," Phil began, fixing his sunglasses as he looked between his peers. "Let's just get in the car and go. C'mon."

Doing his best to stay calm, Phil opened the passenger door for Brooklyn, waiting until she was fully in before shutting the door and rounding the front of the car to the drivers side. "Stu, you got a five?"

"No."

"I'll hit you on the way back," Phil said to the valet boy before sliding into the drivers seat.

"Thank you sir."

Right as Stu opened the back door, he accidentally smacked the baby boy with it as Alan didn't back up enough, causing him to start crying. "Oh my god! Oh my god, you just nailed the baby," Stu panicked, checking on him while Alan just stood there like an idiot.

"Are my glasses okay?"

Wow.

"Your glasses are fine, dick," Stu hissed, waiting for Alan to get in, hopping in after him and closing the door.

And they were off to the hospital.

What else could be next?