Draco Malfoy (original_snake) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-06-11 12:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | draco malfoy |
Who: Andrew (Oneshot)
What: Looking for Trystan
Where: Las Vegas
When: June 6, 2013
Rating: PG - Nothing really unsafe.
~~~~~
12:20pm - June 06, 2013
“Where are you, Trystan?”
The tall, blond duke-in-waiting paced back and forth in front of Baughman’s Rare Books, the designated meeting place. Trystan was usually early, but he was now going on 20 minutes late. He looked at the phone again, four texts were unanswered. This was all wrong. It was giving him a nauseous feeling the way the nightmares did.
He had them. Nightmares.
They started in the same way, Andrew casually driving, always driving down the strip. It was always at night. The hookers were out in droves looking for johns, the nameless faceless atms for a night of faked pleasures for cash. He kept his eye open for only one of them, the one he tried to protect, although doing so was far more trying than he had imagined. He scanned the crowds for the scrawny blonde, the one with far too many marks on his arms, but was the only one that seemed to keep Andrew’s attention.
Although the rest of the nightmare varied, the result was always the same. The sirens blared, the crowds screamed, or sometimes they just passed by. A blond was lying in the street, on the sidewalk, in the gutter, or in the alley, and it was always Trystan. He was beaten, he overdosed, or cut up. One of those nameless, faceless many had taken him from the world. It was always the end that left him wondering what he could have done. Why couldn’t Andrew have saved him?
He checked his watch again, 30 minutes. He wasn’t coming, and he wasn’t answering. He resisted the urge to throw the phone, remembering the message from the previous evening. A wave of nausea hit him all over again. He took a deep breath. No.
The odd message on the network was not one of Trystan’s prose, but something unintended. It was clear that he wasn’t in his right mind. It was also clear that he was high, and he hadn’t answered. How he had such a place in Andrew’s life, the life of a semi-royal, was beyond comprehension? He was an addict, unacceptable by all standards, and yet here he stood, ready to search for the man in his nightmares.
~~~~
2:00pm
Andrew walked down the street in front of Ceasar’s Palace, one of Trystan’s haunts. He approached a young man about Trystan’s age, and proceeded to question him. The prostitute kept reaching out, smelling the money that someone as well dressed could offer. Andrew pulled back with a counter offer. He wanted information on the rail thin blond that often was seen here. Cash for information, nothing else. While the prostitute tried to create stories, Andrew backed away, moving to the next.
Trystan was good at hiding himself. He gave up so very little, and Andrew hadn’t pried like he should have. He didn’t have an address, only a phone number, but it was one that always worked. Frustrated with the situation, he sent another text, followed by another, brushing against another young man who lingered close by. He rebuffed the man without a word, just a glare. No money would change hands down here.
~~~~
3:00pm
Another hour passed just as slowly. He watched the second hand on the clock in the pub where they had gotten the matchbook. They had been back, after the whole fiasco with Lin. Both meetings were at the same table that held him now, glaring at the phone. This wasn’t Trystan disappearing. Something was wrong.
He took a drink to calm his nerves, willing the phone to light up with Missed me, baby. He considered that Trystan might have gotten on a plane and suddenly returned home, but that wasn’t likely. However, he would go to Chicago if he had to. He considered a private investigator as well, but how would he explain who he was, and what he wanted with Trystan. That would require hush money. He decided that was his next route and began looking through his browser for something suitable, with immediate results.
~~~~
5:00pm
Andrew looked at the clock in his kitchen. Five hours since he was supposed to meet the man, and no word. He looked back to the message, swearing loudly. That was what bothered him. There was something wrong. Waiting wasn’t working. Investigators that would take two weeks were unacceptable.
He gave up and called one more time, willing him to pickup, even in that slow, lazy voice, obviously high from his dragon. Instead there was no answer, so he tried again, letting it ring until it hit voicemail. Once more, same result.
On the fourth try, a woman’s voice picked up with a tentative, “Hello.”
Andrew’s eyes widened. “Hello, Ma’am. I’m ... looking for someone else, I’m afraid.” He looked at the screen to check the number he dialed. No, it was correct. “How do you have this phone?”
The woman cleared her voice. “I’m sorry, Sir. This is Nurse Kramer from Sunrise Hospital. This phone belongs to a patient. I was hoping that you may be a family member.”
“Where are you located?” For a moment, his heart stopped.
~~~~
5:45pm
“He only goes by Trystan. His real name is William Percy. He removed himself from our family after falling out with our parents. He has been on the streets of Las Vegas. I came here to find him, however, he has established a life on the streets.” Andrew was lying, meeting their eyes with every word filled with a raw determination to let him in. He didn’t care who he had to pay off, or what wing he had to buy of the hospital. At least now he knew that Trystan was alive, and no one could confirm or deny who he was, at least he was betting on it.
Andrew gave the counter clerk the most sincere look he could manage. “Ma’am, I will attempt to get his correct identification from our family, but for now, I would like to cover all of his expenses.” He pulled out his Platinum American Express card, handing it to the clerk. “Whatever he needs you may charge on this card.”
The clerk looked up speculatively, but accepted the card. She handed it back to Andrew, “Very well. We really cannot release information at this time.”
“Ma’am, he has made it a practice to hide his identity. Proving his birth will take time, but I can do that. I just really need to see my brother. Please.” His hands clasped in front of him as he made his appeal, looking like the earnest young man.
~~~~
6:15pm
Andrew followed the nurse into the room. The clerk was $1000.00 richer, and Trystan had a new brother. He didn’t mind that he had to put forth a small sum overall. The medical expenses were much higher. Again, he didn’t mind. What he did mind was how the machines overwhelmed the small body lying on the bed. His eyes were closed, but his face was white.
Machines monitored his heart, and his breathing. Various lines dripped medicine into his veins, sick from the drugs he had punished his body with for way too long. He nodded at the nurse, who turned and left.
Andrew pulled a chair close to the bed, leaning against the railing. His eyes closed, and the dam that held all those emotions threatened to break. He reached down, pushing strands of blonde from closed lids. “Did you miss me, baby?” he asked in nothing more than a whisper.