Missing Persons [Havoc]

Jamie usually showed up when the bar was in full swing, he'd never seen it fairly quiet. But not a lot of people showed up in the hottest part of the afternoon. Havoc was behind the bar with a chair, feet kicked up on the counter as she scrolled through TV channels, there to give drinks to the one or two people killing the hottest part of the day in the cool and dim of the trashy bar.

She pulled herself to sit up a little more, peering over the counter at the newcomer. "Oh hey, it's you." She waved a half empty bottle of beer at him from behind the counter. She'd never thought she'd be so used to seeing Junkrat in her place, but it was still pretty cool. "Didn't take you long to turn back up here...whatcha doin' back?" She asked.

He'd been glad to see the bar relatively empty when he came in, it was easier to be heard without the in of the music and the drunken yelling all around, and he was a bit too anxious right now to wan to be around a whole mess of people. He gave a half smile when Havoc greeted him, then frowned again as he slipped up to sit on a bar stool, "hey..." He tapped his fingers against the bar top before glancing over at her, "I'm lookin' fer Sam...Sam Caldwell?" He sighed, running a hand through his patchy hair, "I know 'e was 'round'ere last we heard from 'im...But he ain't contacted any'a us in a month...That ain't like Sam." It was clear by the tense edge to his voice that he was worried, "have...Yew ain't seen 'im recently have yeh?"

Havoc was already pouring him one of his usual drinks, sliding the glass across to him.

"Wait, you know Sam? No shit." She laughed a little. "Small fuckin' world, hey man? Good guy, he's fun."

She leaned back on her heels, thinking back for a few minutes. "Umm, lemme see...he was last here..." She trailed off, squinting thoughtfully a little. "Yeah, shit. I think it's been about a month, maybe a little more since he was here." She frowned slightly next. "He was actin' kinda weird, but I didn't think too much about it at the time..."

Jamison nodded and laughed, a nervous tinge to the sound, "yeh...I known Sam since I was...Fuck...Seven?" He looked into the glass with a frown, "Sam looked out fer me out there in th'Outback..." He wasn't usually one to be emotional, especially in front of Havoc, but he couldn't pretend he wasn't incredibly worried, "Sam was like my dad when I didn't have one." He gulped down the drink and rested his head against the bar, "I'm really fuckin' worried..."

He lifted his head again when she spoke and frowned, "damn...Was afraid of that." He ran a hand through his hair, "I had a feelin' he might be gettin' sick...Now I'm sure..." He looked up at Havoc with distressed eyes, "lissen...Can yew help me find 'im? Or...At least look...I jus'...I gotta know where 'e is..." He rubbed his hands over his face, "Skitter deserves t'know wot happened to hi if...Les'...Les' jus' look fer 'im...Okay?"

She paused, listening to his words. "Damn. You really do give a shit 'bout this guy, huh?" Her tone softened a little, although she was a bit surprised. She hadn't really expected the criminal in front of her to have a soft spot. But she guessed they all did, some just buried more deeply than others. She leaned over and poured him a second shot.

"Guess I should be straight with ya...there was *something* wrong with him. He'd randomly start bleedin'..." She gestured towards her face and nose. "Was having trouble eating...he was trying his damnedest to keep it from me...proud, stubborn asshole...but I ain't so oblivious to not see what's directly in front of me either."

She frowned a little. "He just kinda...decided to up and go away, didn't say where he was trying to go. Probably someplace no one had to watch him be fucked up." The thought that he was maybe out there in trouble brought a twinge. This had never been meant to become anything real, but she'd come to like him quite a bit more then she'd ever intended to.

"I'll help as much as I can, but I can't promise anything. You got anything more you can give me? Anything that might help?"

Jamison nodded, quickly downing the second shot, realizing he needed it more than he'd expected, it at least calmed his frazzled nerves a bit, "I do...I care a lot about that stupid asshole." He'd never forgive himself if he left Sam out there to die from this.

He glanced up as she spoke, feeling a sick in his gut, "yeh...Makes sense." His expression was vague and thoughtful, "s'kinda th'fate we all gotta face eventually." He gestured to himself, "yew don't jus' live through nuclear fallout an' walk away with nothin'." He hated thinking about it, "yew rot from th'inside out, slowly, I seen too many people die that way...We all will eventually..." He shook away the thoughts and looked back up at her, "we gotta find 'im...Even if he's...Ugh..." He frowned, "can't believe that asshole would do this."

At the question he paused and looked thoughtful, "we...Might look...I dunno...New York? Seems like th'kinda place he'd go...Ask around hospitals..." He paused and swallowed, "an' then ask around morgues."

She didn't really want to hear about his grisly fate, and frowned, responding maybe a little harsher then she'd intended to. "You can't believe he'd do it? And you said you'd known him how long?" She retorted. "Jackass is too stubborn to let me see him with a fucking nosebleed...you really think he'd stick around long enough to let one of us watch....that?" She gestured with the bottle in his direction, indicating all the things he'd just said. She tipped back the bottle and took a healthy swallow, letting out a bit of a wheeze after. Man, could she pick 'em, a broken sick man who'd die a terrible death sooner rather than later. She hated to think about it.

"So...New York. Okay. He ever said that's a place he wanted to go? Or just...you think maybe it was the big city thing or something? Cause see, my first though would be someplace quiet and out of the way." She countered. "I can start with New York...but man, that's a needle in a fucking haystack, provided he even went there at all." She frowned. "I'm gonna take a step back here...unless he's really close...he had to get on a plane...or cross a border...see if we can narrow down where he went first."

Jamison's expression turned defensive and his response came out a bit more clipped than he'd meant, "no I don't really think. I'm jus' fuckin' worried about a friend." He ran a hand through his hair and took a breath, "sorry jus...Kinda fucked up...Yew don't think about this shit until one'a yer friends starts goin' down that path...Then it all comes crashing back in an'...I jus' wanna find 'im." Or what was left of him, he left that part out, but if all the found was his boy, then at least there'd be closure and something to give a proper burial to.

He looked up, "nah...New york because no one gives a shit about yew there." He snorted, "people die in them streets all th'time...One more sick dyin' homeless man ain't gonna get a second glance..." He looked over at her, "yer right though...S'pose we start askin' around th'airports? At th'borders?" He chuckled, "though I dunno what kinda answers they're gonna give a coupla' criminals." They were both wanted, or he assumed she was, "especially here..." He let out an amused chuckle, "I certainly can't jus' go askin' around places like that..."

"Kid, there's a lotta places no one gives a shit about you." Havoc said with the depth of someone who understood this all too well.

At his suggestion that they go around asking themselves she snorted and suddenly laughed. "What, you think you and me are gonna go around and talk to border patrol? Heh...you're a genius in some ways, and got a lot to learn in others." She looked rather darkly amused.

"I'll put the word out through my *other* channels, I'm not going door to door myself. But if he left this country, and went into some other country...I should have a pretty good idea where he went to at least start looking within the next 24 hours."

Jamison's eye twitched and he shot a look at the woman that was somewhere between offended and angry, "don't do that shit 'avoc...Don't talk t'me like I'm some wet be'ind th'ears whelp!" He was trying not to let his temper flare, because he knew that that wouldn't get them anywhere, but he never liked being spoken down to, "yew may'ave years on me, shiela, but I ain't new t'this rodeo." He shook his head and sighed, "I know we can't jus' go door t'door..." He glanced up at her, "an' don't fuckin' call me kid!" His tone was half joking but half serious and the small smirk showed that.

He sighed and rested his cheek against the bar top, nodding, "a'ight...24 hours then..." He hated waiting, especially for this, "I feel like I need t'get so drunk I ferget me own name." He didn't have the connections that she had, and it was frustrating being at someone else's mercy like this.

Her own irritation flared and she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "You want me to help you or not? Then don't be a shit about this." She would absolutely still look for him anyway, but that still didn't stop her from snarking at him, her own temper and concern coming out as such. Though he had no way of knowing she still would, or that she actually did care or was concerned. Dammit, things always got more awkward when feelings got involved.

"Look, you wanna get shit-faced, that's your call. But if something comes through and you're too fucked up to go after it...there's a lotta places I'll go, but if he's in the States...that's all on you. I can't go back there, I'll be in some kinda deep Federal lock-up before I even get off the fucking plane."

Jamison laughed, a bitter kind of laugh, "yew say that like yew don't intend t'help regardless. But a'ight. I'll behave if yew behave." He eyed her with a look that said he wasn't going to be bullied through this, she'd only met Sam not that long ago, he'd known him for a large portion of his life, "I ain't tryin' t'be an ass jus'...Don't talk down t'me." He heard enough of that from what felt like everyone else.

He glanced over at her and chuckled, "yew say that like I ain't wanted in damn near every corner'a th'globe, mate. Even comin'ere is risky. But I'm doin' this fer Sam." He rested his cheek in his hand and looked determined, "an' if it means gettin' locked away...Well Sam's stuck 'is neck out fer me enough times...Bout time I do th'same." He glanced up at her with a softer expression, "if he's in th'states I'll handle it from there. An' I promise I'll keep yew updated if it comes t'that." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "sorry fer givin' yeh hell...I...I really do 'reciate yer help."

She snorted again and shrugged, trying to act like it wasn't that big of a deal either way. "Eh...I mean...fuckin' Overwatch isn't around anymore so who knows, maybe they don't give a shit 'bout me anymore. But still...I *like* not bein' in jail. Though I guess we all kinda do, huh?" She laughed a little.

She ducked her head a little, rearranging some glasses. "Eh, I'm not tryin' to be an ass either...just...open my mouth and most'a the time bullshit falls out. You know this." She slid the bottle across to him if he did actually want more.