Who: Graham and Piper What: Piper to the rescue? When: after this conversation Where: underground
So Graham had lost track of time. Had he missed his appointment--no, deadline? Deadline with Doctor Singh. How long had he been underground? No clue. But every now and then... Every now and then, mainly when the drugs would start to wear off, Graham got a bit antsy. He got a bit homesick. As much of a home as the Capitol could actually be.
Did he want to go home? Yes.
But before he ever did anything about it, the insatiable urge to get high again dug it's sinister claws back into him and dragged him back under.
His clothes were grimier than usual, thanks to living underground and sleeping on the floor for god knows how long. Maybe he looked a little roughed up too. Maybe there had been scuffles. Graham wasn't sure. And honestly, he had no idea where he was. When he'd originally gone to find Clover, he'd gone four blocks from the Medical Center, and found the entrance to the sewer, or wherever it was that the ghouls lived. Since then, he had moved all over. So when Piper had asked? He'd only told her what he'd known. Was he anywhere near there? He had no fucking clue.
All he knew was that yeah, he'd traded his flashlight for drugs. He'd kept his laptop pretty close. And his r2d2 figure. Those were in the bag beside him. He was laying on the ground, not too far off from a dude he wasn't even entirely sure was still alive. He wasn't sure where Clover was at the moment. He was too busy staring at his hand.
Holding it up between his face and the light, the very dim light, he frowned before turning over onto his side, letting his arm and his hand fall back over to the ground, next to him. He let his eyes follow his arm toward his hand. And then past his hand to the dead guy? Dead guy. Whatever.
He wasn't even sure he remembered telling Piper that he wanted to go home. And if he did, he wanted to take his friend Clover with him. But he wasn't too sure where she had gotten off to. At least not at the moment.