Somewhere a Clock is Ticking | Calloway
The day was simply getting worse and worse.
After a bleary night and a tough day, Burton wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and try to catch up on his sleep - his search for sponsors had so far proven unfruitful, and with Harrison and Lila's marriage in tatters he'd done a lot of chasing around that day. The District 6 mentor eventually got in at around twelve in the morning and tried to rest, but found himself up at around half two, unable to sleep any further. There was a sense of dread creeping over him, but he wasn't sure why; Riker had survived the first day and the first night in the Arena, and none of the other Tributes had received a deadly sponsor package yet.
But then came the news bulletin; then came the pièce de resistance:
Mentor Calloway Johnson of District Twelve was rushed to the emergency room at an early hour this morning... massive amount of injuries including a gun wound to the chest...
Burton gaped at the screen in horror: the wave of misfortune for this year's mentors had finally struck District 12, and he felt the pit of his stomach drop beneath him. Not Calloway; not Cal. The news report continued on, citing a 'crazed fan' as the cause of his injuries but he didn't buy it for a second. And as for the sex? A man who had heard of the death of his girlfriend would certainly not be willing to sleep with a random stranger.
It felt like a dream as he dashed to the emergency room, still an array of crumpled clothes, a hastily worn jacket and bedhair. Burton needed to see him, to make sure that Calloway was okay and that the news reports had been exaggerated. Serious injuries? The citizens of the Capitol usually thought that a chipped nail was a serious injury - perhaps it was simply denial in his head. "Excuse me - I'm looking for Calloway Johnson, I'm his -"
"Oh, we know exactly who you are." The receptionist on the front desk smiled at him, handing him a small bracelet to wear; an identity band from the looks of things. "He's in Room 17 on the far left. Still recovering mind you, he's had a rough time - but it'll be good to have his partner in there with him as support."
He thanked her hurriedly before taking off his coat, draping it over his arm as he made his way to Room 17. Burton had to see him - it was an impulsion as he found the door to the room, and asked the nurses to confirm who was there. Once they did, he took a few moments outside the room to compose himself... but the nurses continued to gossip: "Poor dearie... hearing about his boyfriend on the news, you'd have thought they'd have the guts to tell him to his face!" He found himself pausing in his place, looking up at the women in a mixture of shock and confusion. Of course he was aware of the rumours that had blighted the gossip columns the year before, but... still relevant? Hell, even the receptionist had called him Calloway's 'partner' rather than 'friend', but in his shocked and confused state he'd just ignored it. But now, he'd have to put the record straight.
"... no, no! No he's not my... he's just.... he's..." Burton blinked for a moment in quiet thought, trying to find the words but his mind failed him. "... I don't know what he is to me."
The women giggled and left, leaving Burton alone in the hospital room by Calloway's side. From what he could tell, the news report was no exaggeration; there were so many machines and devices attached, and Burton wondered how many of them were simply keeping Cal alive rather than comfortable. Sinking into the chair next to the bed, he buried his head in his hands in misery. There'd been a very real chance that Burton could lose his closest friend; the chance could still come and hurt him yet.
Calloway Johnson was not going to die; Burton would never let him die.
"... I hope you can hear me Cal. But you better fucking pull through this. You better - we still have a lot to do, you and me. Remember? We still owe each other a couple of drinks at the bar... remember that, mate." He gave his friend a small, sad smile and pushed himself upright in his seat. "... don't let me lose someone else. Please - I've lost enough people already this last year, don't go and join them. If you're still there, if you still... care, Cal, then pull through. Please. For Magnus, and Eileen... and Rowan and Shasta... a-and for me."
And with that, Burton reclined back in his chair in silent thought, his hand dangling a few inches from Calloway's as he sat. Now it would just be a waiting game.
