it's always bears [03]
As the group moves down the hallway, the lights blink and go out behind them. Alan thinks about what he said just a few minutes before - can't go back - and worries slightly about how accurate that seems now
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She doesn't let any of those in, just yet.
"One thing at a time."
She looks around, seeing if it's possible to get an idea of where they are, and...Yes, there it is; that's the cake shop she used to stop by on her way home, before she lost her taste (and spare money) for sweets. But that location should mean...
"My apartment should be close by. Why don't we gather our wits there?" And she can finally get her fix, and maybe see if that cake she pinched is still any good.
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There's a gap in the line of pedestrians, and Alan spots a payphone a few feet away. "Here, do you mind taking this back?" he asks Mary, offering her the bookbag back. "I want to make a phone call first." Even out of the oppressive atmosphere of the hospital, he can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.
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Said cousin also seems to still be a bit dazed, which leaves Mary to point her to the phone booth, and then leave her with whatever it is that's bothering her. Mary herself is still working on keeping all those feelings of what just happened to them at bay. With that done, she leads the way after Alan, still wondering over why this all seems so familiar.
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He can hear the phone ring. Shouldn't be too long. Laura's dorm shares one phone, so someone's always around to pick up. He remembers once when one of the other girls had answered. "Oh, it's you again, Alan? Man, I wish my boyfriend called as often as you did," she had said before Laura took the phone from her.
The phone continues to ring. "C'mon," Alan says, not realizing he's speaking out loud. "Pick up. Pick up. Pick up." It keeps ringing.
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She looks around at the people walking past. She'd always felt like an outsider, different somehow, though she had always attributed that to her strange hobby. Now, though, seeing people go about their business as usual is just surreal.
"Mary?" Laura starts quietly, looking down. "I'm sorry."
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"...Don't worry about it." She finally says. Although her voice, and the way she grips the handle around her bag until her knuckles go white also has a tone of 'Kindly don't ever do that again, though.'
"I suppose I should thank you, as you opened the door." Which...Kind of lead to trouble, so she adds. "And helped us escape." Which also doesn't sound very positive, now that she thinks about it.
...A pill is really starting to sound better and better, to see if that might help with her words. The fact that she has them close by, that they aren't lost any longer, isn't helping to carry her as much as it did while they were escaping.
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Laura and Mary seem to be in the middle of something, so he bites back a suggestion that they get moving that really would have been sharper than the situation deserved, if he thinks about it rationally. Doing that, however, is a lot harder than it sounds, and he taps out a sharp, irregular rhythm on the side of the wheelchair as he scowls down at the ground. He's concentrating more on possible reasons why nobody would be around the building to answer the phone rather than anything else, and trying really hard to forget about fire.
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A hand goes to her forehead as she looks down at Alan. It doesn't look like the call went well. Wait, did he even speak to anybody? "Alan, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
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She also turns towards him when he comes out, trying very hard to be all ears. That's not very easy though, when there's a swelling chant in her head starting to yell out for the drugs.
'Just one, just a fragment, even, doesn't have to be much, truly, just one...'
It's hard for her to remember why it's so important to listen to him, and Mary isn't certain she even knew why in the first place. But an odd tight feeling in her chest is currently battering away at that need for the next pill, so she forces a few more words out.
"Is there...What is the problem Ala-" She remembers her manners. "Mister Crawford?"
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His voice, if not completely calm, is at least fairly steady throughout his recital, though he's gone back to tapping the chair before he clenches his hand into a fist to make himself stop. "Damn it, someone should have answered!"
After that outburst, he lapses back into his chair and shakes his head. "Do you have a train schedule at your apartment, Miss Keller? Maybe I'll go out and check on her."
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"A-alright," Laura stammers, looking anywhere but at Alan. "Let's go, then. Better to not waste time."
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"It...Is right this way. It should only take us a few minutes, if we hurry." And with that, she starts walking.
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He's not asking them for help, a part of him protests. And maybe you should be, some other part answers.
That's the thought that catches him off-guard and keeps him occupied most of the way to the apartment. And the part that prompts him to, in a slightly calmer voice, look over at them and say, "Sorry for snapping. I'm just really worried."
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"It's quite alright. And we should have everything you nee-" Mary stops as she turns the key in the lock, and opens the door to her apartment. The carpet is still that soft green from before, and those reassuring walls are still in place...But that's all there is. The furniture is gone, as are the books, the bed, and everything else that made up her home.
She almost drops the bag as she stares in, and it takes a moment for Mary to remember to breathe.
"...W-what?"
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He tries to remember that first conversation with Mary, though it feels like a long time ago. "...Could your family have done this?" It doesn't seem like the right answer, but what else could possibly have happened?
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