prepare4trouble: (N&M)
He checks again, just to be certain, slipping his fingers into every section and pocket of the bag where he may have dropped the phone accidentally. It is definitely not there. He already knows it isn’t in his pocket, but he checks anyway, running his hands first over his back pockets, then his front, before checking his jacket. Nothing.

An uneasy feeling begins to stir in his stomach. His wallet should have been in his bag too, and he doesn’t remember touching it when he checked for the phone.

He wouldn’t. He thinks again.

Who is he trying to kid? Of course he would.

He sits back down at his desk, drums his fingers on the desk and and tries not to care. There is nothing he can do, Mike has seen to that; he can’t call Foggy and he doesn't know where Mike might have taken him. All he can do is wait for him to return. He doesn’t even actually know that he is with Mike. He is sure that he is, but he doesn’t know it.

No. He can’t do it. he can’t just sit there writing an essay while his brother is messing around with his life. With his friend.

He gets to his feet again. He has Foggy’s number memorized, and somewhere in the building he will be able find someone willing to lend him a phone. He has to warn Foggy. If he is with Mike, getting a call from Matt will prove once and for all that he isn’t delusional. It might be the only chance he gets.


***


“Wow,” Foggy says, coming to a complete stop outside the bar. “You sure this is the right place?”

Matt shrugs. “Does it say Josie’s in the window?”

“Yeah…”

“Then it’s the right place.”

Foggy looks the bar up and down. Beyond the lit up sign in the window, it appears dimly lit. The door is a sturdy metal affair, designed to take a battering. Pieces of a broken glass bottle lay on the ground outside.

“I’m not sure about this, Matt. It looks kind of…” he breaks off, floundering for words. “Okay, don’t think I’m some kind of snob, because I’m really not, but you know how some places just give off this really bad vibe?”

Matt laughs, apparently unconcerned, and clasps him on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine, c’mon.”

Matt releases his grip on Foggy’s elbow and steps around to the front. He grabs Foggy by the sleeve of his jacket and tugs him in the direction of the door. Foggy sighs. “Fine, but I want it on the record that you’re only okay with this because you don't know what it looks like.”

“Noted,” Matt smiles.

Foggy slips a hand into his back pocket and touches his wallet defensively as he opens the door. He offers Matt his elbow again and they walk inside.
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