9.2 Loose Lips Sink Ships - Wait, No, That's Canons

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The nurse shared their lunch period, it seemed, or otherwise had a knack for disappearing at the most inopportune of times. Collin saw the note on the door and elbowed Derek to get the man's attention. Derek didn't as much as twitch.

"Iris, she's not in," Collin tried.

Iris didn't answer. Collin glared at the back of her head. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail; he thought he saw flashes of silver under the black, like fish scales glinting among river reeds.

"In here," Iris said.

Derek lumbered after her through an open door, dragging Collin along. Collin squinted under the glare of overhead lights. The office looked familiar. So did the man watching them with sharp, smiling eyes.

"Couch," Iris instructed.

Derek dumped him on the couch. He was gentle about it, but Collin still felt the rattle of the springs in his teeth. "Sorry," Derek said.

Collin waved him off, too seasick to talk. He tried to tune in on Iris and Reed, but heard nothing of use other than his name and possibly Michael's. How Iris knew who Michael was, Collin had no idea.

"What do you want to do?" Reed asked. He didn't sound especially interested – but he had asked, so he must want an answer.

Iris had her back to Collin, so he couldn't make out her expression. "Take a look at him," she said.

Collin saw the flicker of disappointment in Reed's eyes before they curled in another false smile. "Call your mother," he said. Iris grunted in agreement.

Collin watched Reed advance through narrowed eyes, trying his best to keep the man's image from doubling. "I'm fine," he said.

Reed tilted Collin's head up with a firm hand under his chin. Collin snarled, and would have bitten the man had the whole world not chosen that moment to tilt topside up.

"Follow my finger," Reed instructed.

Collin did, though grudgingly. Reed let him go after a few passes. He pushed his head down next. Collin ground his teeth and leaned forward, biting back winces as Reed felt over the sore spot at the base of his skull.

"Careful," Iris snapped.

"He has a mouth," Reed said evenly. His fingers gentled, then lifted altogether. "Remain as you are. Mr. Wilburn, take this. There is ice in the fridge, if you would please make a compress."

Collin sat stiffly while Reed applied something medicinal to the swelling. He heard Iris dial, and hunched his shoulders.

"Hey, mom. No, nothing happened – well, nothing like that. Listen, Collin fell and hit his head-" there was a burst of sound from the other end of the line. Iris powered through, raising her own voice, "He's fine! It's just a little bruise. Sure, here."

A phone appeared under Collin's nose. Collin stared at the glowing screen, startled.

"It's on speaker," Iris said.

"Collin? Are you alright?" Mrs. Weaver asked, voice high and worried.

Collin swallowed. "Y-yeah, I'm – I'm fine," he croaked.

"Would you like me to pick you up?"

Collin shook his head, only to remember that Mrs. Weaver couldn't see him, "No, it's nothing, don't – please don't worry. It's really just a bruise," he stammered.

"Did you go to the nurse?" Mrs. Weaver pressed.

Collin hesitated. He didn't want to lie, but the truth would bring more questions, and not the kind he knew how to answer.

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