Room 324 [Tuesday Late Morning]

[longislandiceme]

He almost hadn't even bothered coming back. Not just because he'd spent nearly two hours wrangling with the Portalocity booking agents regarding getting a portal to Fandom in the first place; they'd finally, finally relented when Warren flung an absurd amount of money in their direction. The real reason had much more to do with the fact that time

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[not_a_parakeet]

What the hell, Bobby. What the hell, Tony. What the hell was up with everyone this week? Warren had been halfway through breakfast at the Perk when he'd realized that he'd gotten a voicemail message, and he'd come back flying, taking the stairs two at a time on his way down to their room.

"Leaving? Please tell me you're joking, Bobby?"

Something about the state of the room at the moment pretty much confirmed that Bobby... wasn't joking.

"What's going on?"

[longislandiceme]

"What's going on?" Bobby echoed, shoving a bunch of clothes into a duffel bag with a ferocity they probably didn't deserve. "They tried to kill my father, Warren. That's what's going on."

[not_a_parakeet]

Oh.

Warren winced, stepping into the room and closing the door carefully behind himself.

"They? The ones who had, um..." He waved vaguely in the direction of the screen that they'd watched that bigoted presidential campaign speech on. While he'd been vaguely aware that Bobby had been off doing something about it, he hadn't realized that it had gotten that messy. "God, Bobby, I'm sorry. How is he?"

[longislandiceme]

"He'll be lucky," Bobby swallowed hard, trying to force back the tears that threatened to well up, "if he makes it through the night."