But We're Not Normal

Free

"Clay." How in the hell Clay was going to find a way to get to George in the first place, he had no idea. "Clay." He could just turn up at the airport and hope he'd spot George. "Clay." He didn't really want to wait long enough for George to post something in order to decipher his whereabouts from that. "Clay!"

"What?" Clay rounded on Vincent, who was glaring at him from the couch. There was a soft shine of understanding behind his initial annoyance though and Clay sighed, letting his shoulders slump, and stopped pacing.

"You're doing no one any good just pacing around, lost in your own head. Sit down. We agreed that we do things as a team now, so talk. Tell me what you're thinking." He instructed and, after a moment of hesitation, Clay sat beside Vincent. Darryl and Zak were in the next room over. They had taken Keres there in the hopes of convincing her to rest and then decided to stay by her side.

"I'm thinking of just saying fuck Damien and driving to meet George at the airport." Clay growled. He also had half the mind to go and beat the living hell out of Damien himself.

"Language." Darryl commented as he padded in. Clay shifted so that he could sit between him and Vincent. "And you know that we can't put George and Nick in danger like that. We have to find a way to make it look like you just accidentally ran into them."

They sat formulating for a while, Clay's knee bouncing uncontrollably with his nerves and Clay's nails at his knuckles. He's not quite sure when the want to see George became a need but it only made his nerves worse - he felt as though he was going insane. Darryl had commented that it was likely George would see an image of what had happened and no longer want to be found. Their best bet was to turn up somewhere near the airport and pray that they'd see George and Nick before they got the chance to stray too far.

"Uh, guys?" Zak called. He wandered into the room with a sleepy Keres at his side, holding something in one hand. It was the home phone - Clay had forgotten they even had a home phone by this point, no one ever used it. "I think it's for you, Clay." He stated, holding it out towards Clay. He stood and took the phone from Zak's hand, calling out a 'hello?'.

Zak, Vincent and Darryl watched nervously as Clay cradled the phone to his ear. Their concern only grew as Clay's face dropped, eyes wide and lips open. He looked as though he couldn't quite comprehend what he was hearing.

"We regret to inform you that Damien has recently been admitted into emergency care. He has requested that the nature of his injuries remain classified but we are able to inform that he will not be returning to work for a significant period of time in order to recover. You will be under temporary management with Mrs. Bosko until he is able to return. A meeting with Mrs Bosko has been scheduled for you in a few hours. We wish you all the best in these trying times."

The shrill beep of the call ending was barely heard over the blood rushing in Clay's ears. He didn't feel Darryl and Vincent's hands on his shoulders and arms. He didn't feel them steer him to sit on the couch. He didn't hear it when they shouted his name. He didn't feel it when Vincent shook him by the shoulders.

Clay couldn't believe what he'd heard. This was a dream, it had to be. Maybe he was hallucinating, body finally having caught up to his own neglect. He tried to recall how long he'd slept for, how much he'd eaten, the last time he'd drunk something. After everything they'd been through at his hands, this was it? It was all over?

"Clay, please, you're scaring us." Darryl murmured, tapping his cheek gently, desperate to get rid of that far away look in his eyes and just bring him back. What had happened? Who was on the phone? What had they said? Clay whispered something unintelligible and Darryl shifted closer to try and hear him. "What was that?"