“Hm. He's my partner. Anyway,we’ve found enough to be able to reconstruct some of what happened-“
“Will you be able to find him?” The son asked urgently.
“We’ll do our best. I’m sure we will, though. Soon, too, since his friends have been up our arses since we asked them those few questions and it would be refreshing to have them off our case for more than five seconds.”
“They mean well,” the mother pointed out, somewhat nervous.
I nodded “I know. They want to help. It’s just…we don’t want to be losing anymore kids and they seem to have taken to walking around until late searching for him, and if they tried helpingus it would be more of an interference than anything. And constantly pestering us isn’t speeding anything up, either.”
“I understand,” the mother said with a small smile. She seemed to be about to say more, but I felt a presence by my shoulder and turned. “Stryker, I told you to stay-“
Stryker was looking down, hands stuffed in his pockets as he cut me off in a low mumble “‘m not feeling too well” he admitted quietly “I…I want…to go home.”
Myeyes darkened with concern, and I reached out to put a hand on the small of his back “no?” I asked softly.
Stryker gave a small head-shake.
“The biscuits not help?”
“No” Stryker answered in a near whisper, still not meeting my eyes “was feeling nauseous.”
I reached up to brush his sweaty hair away from his forehead, frowning ever so slightly. “You know that you should eat when that happens, right?”I’d been getting Matthew to inform me on hypoglycaemia and I rememberedthatclear as day.
“I…know, ‘s just…” Stryker trailed off and swallowed hard. He was definitely trembling, and the pastiness of his skin was evident enough.
I sighed, beginning to rub soothing circles into his back and listing the symptoms Matthew had relaid to me “headache?”
“Hm”
“Tired? Drowsy?”
“Hm”
“Dizzy?”
“A little”
“Is anything blurry? Can you see me clearly?”
“Hm” Stryker replied without looking up. I frowned but didn’t comment.
“Heartbeat?”
“Pounding.”
“Okay. Lips tingling?”
“Not really”
“Any reason you won’t look at me?”
Stryker finally raised his gaze, which looked unfocused.
“Stryker, are you sure I’m not blurry?”
“Think ‘m gonna be sick” Stryker said instead of answering.
I shook my head, pressing a kiss to his forehead “no, S, you’re not gonna be sick.” I assured him.
