SATURDAY NIGHT FOOTBALL (The World)

[gluttoning]

[FOOTBALL NOISES

aka this for IRL football watching or any communications outside Fragment. Yay football. :)]

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[gluttoning]

[Voicemail.

Voicemail.

Voicemail.

He sends another text. It sits with the rest.

He hears Yael speak. It feels like white noise.]

I... no, they can't do that. They can't keep doing that. He's not...

[...

As the phone goes to voicemail one more time, Barrett's expression hardens, an attempt to push up to his feet, his eyes very clearly scanning for the exit.]

No. I need to go see for myself. He can't still be there. I just talked to him last night.

[weaseled]

Don't, Barrett.

[The chances of Barrett hearing him, really hearing him, are slim enough. The chances of him listening even slimmer. Nevertheless, Yael insists.]

You're only going to make yourself feel worse. Are you going to hurt yourself on purpose?

[gluttoning]

[The redhead locks up into silence, jaw clenching slightly as he looks towards Yael.]

This isn't about my feelings.

Thank you for telling me. But if he's in trouble, I can't just sit here.

[He's not willing to wait for Yael to get out of his way, either. So long as the older man isn't blocking him off, Barrett is going to try to shoulder his way past.]

[weaseled]

[Yael can't make him listen, and he certainly won't stand in the way of someone who has already made their mind up. Suit yourself, he thinks, turning on his heel to leave the moment he sees the resolution to do the same in Barrett's eyes.

But he does hope, somewhere deep down in his heart, that Barrett will be okay. Loss never gets easier.]