Defining Factors

Oh Where, Oh Where Have Thou Gone?

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Warnings: James talks about his dead, decaying pets and it's weird.

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Distraction his ass.

Hamilton was currently banging his head against the wall. It'd been two days and no one has even heard a whisper of where Jefferson might be. Hopefully, Jefferson left completely by choice rather than the foul play that everyone suspected and knew to have happened. One problem. No witnesses. Even worse, Andre and Tallmadge went through all the recorded video of the compound and found nothing. According to Tallmadge, after Andre finished his discussion with Thomas, Thomas just walked into his room and never came back out.

Hamilton smacked his head against the wall again.

"Dude!" Mulligan called, coming over and wrenching him around bby his shoulder. "You're going to put a dent in the wall!" He wasn't mad, Hamilton could tell. "I can't get my deposit back if there are head dents in the drywall."

Hamilton scoffed and threw himself down on the couch, an arm flung over his face. "This sucks."

"What's gotten into you?" Mulligan asked. "You've been irritable ever since you got back and something is clearly bothering you."

"It doesn't concern you."

"Well, obviously, I'm currently concerned. Concerned for you. What's wrong man?"

A groan resonated in Hamilton's throat. "You're not going to let up, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"Fine. A friend of mine went missing and no one can find him," Hamilton said. "That's all I'm sharing."

"Shit, dude, anything I can do?"

Hamilton shook his head. "There' not anything I can do, let alone what you could do." Or am allowed to anyway.

"Well, I can at least help spread awareness. What's their name?"

Hamilton didn't respond right away. Weighing his options if sharing this info was even okay. In the end, it's just a name and Mulligan wouldn't make a difference anyway. "Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson."

"Alright buddy. I'll contribute however I can. He'll turn up eventually."

"Sure. Thanks man."

***

"Anything else you need?"

Thomas turned from looking over James' room again, thinking about how this is where James has been living. His first couple nights had been in this room, thinking about when he'd see James again. "No," he said softly. "You've done more than enough. Thank you."

Mulligan nodded, leaning against the doorframe of the room. "No problem dude. Listen, I know it's been a rough few days since you got here, without James being around, but I promise he'll stop in soon."

James hadn't made the effort yet. How could Thomas be sure? "How do you know?" he asked. "Does he talk to you and not me?"

Mulligan laughed. "Talk. Funny. No, it's not that. He has a cat that only shows up when he's about to come home. And then Bella always gets all perky. He'll probably pop in any minute."

"Wait, James has a dog?" Thomas asked. He hadn't even seen her.

"Yeah! You haven't met her?" Mulligan straightened and whistled loudly. "Bella! Come here girl!" Mulligan called. And that's when a dead hound decided to materialize out of the floor. Thomas scrambled back in alarm. Bella wasn't exactly a pretty sight. Patches of dark fur still clung pretty well to her dehydrated skin. Parts of her, such as her snout and legs were pretty much just bone.