where: hospital who: @ccxcorioni & nolan fitzpatrick
Word of the fires set across the city reached him while he was still at the office, brushing up on some case files before he'd need to present in court early next morning -- which quickly turned into a solo brainstorming and strategy sessions, thinking of all the ways he could use these little tragedies to his advantage; personal injury, potential class action suits against the building owners, emotional distress. The commercial practically wrote itself, but just as quickly as the dollar signs appeared, they vanished as soon as Second Gear Collective was named one of the locations. Open files were left unattended, tie loosened as he tried to get ahold of CC, of anyone else he knew was present that night -- but it seemed the rest of NYC had the same idea.
He'd finally been able to connect with CC before the call dropped, though the only words he'd been able to make out were 'hospital' and 'hurt', so he didn't know what to expect once he arrived. His heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline mixed with a very unfamiliar sense of fear overtaking him -- until he spotted her by the reception desk. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, C -- what the fuck? You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack." The ire in his tone wasn't directed at her as much as it might have sounded so; some people cried when they felt relief, others (like Nolan) reacted differently. Regardless, he didn't waste another second before he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly in his embrace. "I owe the big guy upstairs a fuckin' big one, I'll tell ya that."