Will We Talk?

50- Found

My beauty sleep was interrupted by a consistently loud rattle against my front door at around half eleven. I was home alone, so it was quite scary, but I had crutches, and I wasn't afraid to use them. As far as I was aware, Sam had been out with the lads for a chill session as the album release was nearing. Slowly. It was nearing slowly with last minute tweaks and vocals to be made.

In a fettle, I tossed the throw from my body, allowing the cold air of my apartment to meet my exposed skin, and waddled to find my crutches. I could've sworn I put them next to the settee.

While frantically searching around the room, I could hear the banging of rain against the windows, a clear sign that March would be another cold one. Alongside that clash, the knock on the door was becoming more frequent, subsequently making me more stressed as I crawled around in the dark.

Right, nar.

I've had enough.

I crawled the length of my living room towards the door, using the surfaces around me to pull me up as I got there. Eventually, after what felt like years of hunting around, I opened the door to reveal a soaking Dean ahead of me. It's not rare that Dean comes around, but he only comes around when Sam's here. Don't get me wrong, we're pals and getting closer by the minute, but the thought of him here alone is strange.

"Y'alreet Deano? Come in, I'll get you a towel." I offered, pulling my body to one side.

"You're fine, pet. Just nipped around to see where Sam was, he hasn't came yet." he explained, making my heart skip a beat. I felt all the colour in my face fade, leaving me white as a sheet.

"He's not with yous? He texted is to say he were." I replied.

Dean shook his head, face full of mortification, "Nar, he said he'd not be five minutes an hour or so ago. Rang 'um god knas how many times, text the same but he hasn't responded."

"Fucks sake man. Did he say where he was before meeting yous?" I interrogated, "I literally rang him half an hour ago and he said he was with yous, drinking at the Low Lights."

"Funny." Dean scoffed, "We've not stepped a foot in the Low Lights tonight."

"Where the fuck is he?" I silently whimpered.

"Hey now, he'll be fine. Y'kna how he is." Dean soothed, holding my shoulder.

"Do I though? He barely ever talks me nowadays, we only hug or kiss or watch somet, but I've not had a proper conversation with him in ages." I suddenly spat, "Sorry Deano."

"You're alreet, pet. He's just a bit of a tit sometimes eh?" he chuckled.

I sighed in agreement, genuinely worried about Sam. What if something was actually wrong with him and I hadn't noticed? Wow. Best girlfriend award goes to me.

"Got any clothes you can hoy on and we'll head to the Low Lights, see where he is?" Dean tried to calm my nerves.

I shook my head, "They're in my room, but its fine I'll toss me hair up and just gan like this." I shrugged, tossing my hair forward and notting it at the top of my head, "Will you gis' a hand looking for my crutches?"

"How the fuck did you get to the door?" he gasped, walking to the living room and finding them immediately.

"Crawled." I laughed.

*****

Dean and I had been walking to the Low Lights for around five minutes, honestly not surprised when we didn't find him in the pub. The prick was sneaky. Very sneaky. We decided to head towards the coastline and see if he was there.