Final Hour (NateWantsToBattle & MatPat)

11

The drive back to Burbank was quiet, long and tiring. Nate remained quiet, focusing on the road. The only noise in this car was some music, that every five or ten minutes Nate would insult. He doesn't like new pop music apparently.

It was dark on the road we were on, which was the I-4. It was plesantly empty which was nice.

"Nate?" I ask.

"Mhm."

"What if someone is at your house?" I ask him.

"There won't be anyone there. I think." He sighed, turning onto a street in town. "As long as we have what we have, we'll be fine,"

Nate pulled into the parking lot of his building. "Welp, here we are." He said, shutting the car down, before getting out of the car. I followed him, grabbing my cat, as well as the diet coke I was drinking. With a sigh, we walked into the buidling, trecking up the stairs quietly. He stopped at his door, taking out the key card for his house. After opening his door, I could help but notice him freeze with shock.

"What the fuck happened?!" I hear him ask.

Looking inside the house, I couldn't help gasping in shock. The entire house was trashed. Couches were ruined, broken glass everywhere..

"It wasn't like this when I left it." He narrowed his eyes, looking around.

"Maybe someone broke in.." He sighed.

"But why?"

"Maybe the person who broke in was looking for me." He sighed.

"Well," I say, turning around closing the door, "we can stay here for a few days, but I don't know how long."

I look up to notice he wasn't there.

"The cats aren't even here... Brett evacuated completely." I hear Nate's voice echo from down the hall.

I follow his voice into one of the bedrooms in his house.. I'm assuming this is Brett's room.

"So, Phoebe and Brett left, and took the animals." I say. 

"Yep, and they took Rylo too." He sighed.

"Well, maybe it's for the best." I say.

He sighed again, "If only I had a lead on where Morgan was." He muttered quietly.

"Hey, we'll find her, and Stephanie. Brett and Phoebe will show up again.."

He looked at me, turning the lights on in the room, and in the hallway.

"Keep the lights on." He said. "Trust me on this."

I watched him walk into the kitchen, walking into a room, off the edge of the kitchen. His recording room. "Maybe there's something in here." He sighed. "My house can't be completely totaled without any leads."

"Nate, how bout you get some sleep, then try and figure stuff out."

"You do what you want, Matthew." He said to me quietly. "I need to figure out what has happened."

I nod, not wanting to piss him off. "Okay." 

---

It was now later in the night. I'm sitting on the couch with my laptop, and Skip. Nate was sitting with me, but got up an hour ago to look around more. He left his guitar out here. The guitar seem to calm him down. He was tense, but now he's just overly tired, and wants to find some clues.

I'm scrolling through Facebook, not even paying to what the content was. I can barely hear Nate, moving things around in other rooms. My Facebook feed was right now scattered with the recent events that have been happening in California.

Everything was silent, all until I heard a pile of boxes fall, followed by Nate calling my name.

"Matt." He yelled. "Matt."

I get up quickly, running down the hall to where I assume Nate and Morgan's room is. He was standing near the bathroom door, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"What? What's wrong?!" I ask him.

"Morgan needs to be found." He said.

"I know, we'll find h--"

"No!" He cut me off, "I don't want anyone hurting her, any other day, but if someone lays a hand on her now.."

"Wait, why?" I ask.

"I found this on Morgan's nightstand. She wrote it a week ago." He said, handing me a note.

"What is it?" I ask,  not even reading it.

He looked at me. The dark shade of his eyes reflecting off of the lamps light.

"Matthew...  She's pregnant..."