#adrianohara

The second bedroom was really more of a broom closet than anything, and Elijah and Annie had always treated it as such. It was the place where they stored whatever few possessions they owned that weren’t readily useable: seasonal items, cleaning supplies, all the miscellaneous things they hadn’t been able to part with when they’d consolidated their items when they moved in together all those years ago... So there was a bit of a ‘moving out’ process that had to occur before Elijah could begin ‘moving in.’ 

Adrian had been the first person he’d thought to call for help, and luckily he’d agreed. “Hey man,” Elijah said with a small, but genuine smile as he greeted him at the door. This was a hard experience, but it was a little bit easier with support. “Thank so much for this. I know you probably have better things you could be doing...” 

"It was him, he did it first!” He pointed at the other male. The man only rolled his eyes, mumbled something in response, though kept calm as the arresting officer sat him down to take his statement. Between them two of them, Casey was significantly more riled--- he was having a bad enough day as it was, and the stress he’d accumulated over the past couple of weeks hadn’t helped the situation, especially not when he was experiencing an episode of sensory overload when the incident had occurred.

The officer who’d handled him enlisted the help of another, who stepped in and forcefully lowered his hand as he kept pointing at the man across the room from him. “Kid, we’re gonna need you to calm down. We can let you off with a warning, but not if you’re gonna make another goddamn scene in this precinct, alright?” the man said, and he looked intimidating enough as it was, instilling a fear in Casey that further fueled the anxiety he was feeling. He aggressively shook his head, grabbed fistfuls of his hair before running his hands over his face to rub at his cheeks. The actions were enough to prompt a confused look from the pair of officers, one of them mumbling something inaudible to each other which Casey hadn’t caught, as he was too busy trying to block out the buzzing sound of the chatter surrounding him and the fluorescents that suddenly seemed much too bright. He placed his head on the desk, rubbing his forehead over the wood as he tried to calm himself. 

Things between him and Adrian O’Hara had never been good, but it’d never before been so... uncertain. In high school, they’d gotten by mainly ignoring each other - like two ships passing in the night of Hazel Boyd’s life - but that all seemed so juvenile now. And in the wake of the night Adrian had talked him down off the proverbial ledge, and the recent news of Idris’ illness, the whole thing just seemed petty and wrong. 

He couldn’t even remember how all of it had started in the first place, though if he had to guess, it probably involved him running his Kingsgate mouth in all the wrong places. In light of that, he figured he should probably be the one to end it, too - or at least call some sort of tentative truce. He meant it when he promised Hazel he’d stick around this time, and he knew that, regardless of how he felt about it, that meant that Adrian would become a fixture in his life too... 

He knew the station was no doubt busy in the wake of the recent fire, but he hoped that Adrian might be grateful for the brief reprieve. That didn’t stop him from feeling completely lame, standing there with two coffees in hand, but he tired not to let that show. 

“Hey man. I, uh- I was hoping you might be able to spare me a couple minutes. I brought coffee,” he held up one of the cups as proof. 

His eyes scanned the police station as he entered. It was still familiar after all of these years - nothing had changed. He was sure that, if he looked hard enough, he’d even be able to find the messy scribblings he’d made when he was seven and forced to spent the evening at the station after his babysitter fell through. 

The one familiar sight he couldn’t see though, was his father, so he instead chose to inquire with the nearest officer, a dark haired man whose back was turned to him. “Excuse me, do you know where I can find Chief Sampson?”