James just knew, he knew, that his luck wasn't going to hold out through all of this. He was fucked. And that's what he got for trusting a junkie. He should have known better. He felt.. fucking disgusted with himself right about now. With each step they took, successfully, he was filled with more and more dread about what he knew was going to happen eventually. And he was right.
But what he hadn't expected was for Fisher to step up to bat. He had the most shocked look on his face when the other man handed him his underpants and then took off screaming down the hall. He was so taken back by it that he nearly didn't duck out of view as the nurse, in this midst of his checks, sighed in frustration and took off in a run toward the sound.
With the coast clear, James was able to make it back to his room, the drugs undisturbed on the bed. He hid them quickly and then looked at Fisher's underwear in his hand. He glanced around trying to figure out what to do with them before stuffing them in the mattress as well. He sat down. But then another thought struck him.
If Fisher was going to get caught, and he was, there was no way around it, it would be better if they didn't know how he'd managed to get out of the room. So peeking his head out his door to make sure the coast was clear, he slipped next door. The nurse was starting to come to but she hadn't just yet and he had just enough time to push the door open just enough to pull the tape off of the lock.
He scooted quickly back into his room, pulling tape from his own door, and then climbed into his bed, heart pounding in his chest. And then he felt guilty. While logically he had had every reason to doubt him, he felt as though he probably shouldn't. Fisher Majors was full of surprises. He smiled, caught himself doing so, then groaned. What the fuck was he getting himself into now?