[Private Calls: Backdated to Sunday afternoon]

[catchingflies]

[Both Pietro and Kurt get voice messages left on their phones in the late afternoon on Sunday. They're both pretty much identical, too.]

Hey, uh. It's the Toad. You okay? We spotted some light comin' from your way and, uh, just wanted to check in. Call me back.

[And then he hangs up. And sits by the phone all night. He's worried, okay?]

Comments

[thefuzzyguy]

Nein, I didn't think to ask.

[He doesn't trust it, either. Kurt's not good at computers, but a far as he can tell, they're only good until someone who knows how to mess with them gets there, and the only reason the scary totalitarian overlords would have not to break the codes would be politeness.]

He can probably tell you about it when he gets back to you.

[catchingflies]

Yeah. I'm gonna ask.

[He pauses to frown at the phone, not exactly concerned, but definitely kind of confused.]

You sure yer okay?

[He sounds... kind of not okay.]

[thefuzzyguy]

Um...

[Eh, why bother.]

No. But I'm not hurt, so close enough.

[catchingflies]

How can you not be okay if yer not hurt? Or is it the whole... plague thing?

[He sounds torn between annoyed and worried all over again. Or maybe still.]

[thefuzzyguy]

[Well, that gives him an out that isn't attempting to talk about feelings. With the Toad. Over the monitored network for an audience of scary technocratic supersoldiers.]

Ja. Plague. That's it.

[catchingflies]

[Todd isn't sure? But that kinda sounds like lying to him. But he can't figure out what else he might be bothered about, and what's worse, he can't really figure out how to ask, either.

So he takes plague at face value. Sort of.]

You guys'd better get better.

[thefuzzyguy]

Ja, what kind of stupid plague comes back for you?

[That's incere, if spiritless. That really is just unfair.]

[catchingflies]

Pietro said somethin' about, like. It bein' engineered or somethin'? Like somebody did this thing on purpose?

[Todd doesn't know what to think about that.]

You just, y'know. Be careful.

[thefuzzyguy]

Ja, I'm just... doing sick stuff, I guess. The hospital has way too much to do. Hopefully it'll lay off after a while. Und I'll just stare at the ceiling. Well, the sky, right now. Whatever.

[He sounds a little more like himself. He's babbling, at least, which is standard Kurt.]

[catchingflies]

Sounds like tons of fun. Is Pietro whining about it all?

[That sounds more like Todd, too. Because obviously Pietro is complaining, right? Obviously.]

[thefuzzyguy]

Probably. They kept him at the hospital, and while I was taking him there he was doing the thing where he talks too fast to understand. But I'm sure he was bitching.

[That's always a safe bet.]

[catchingflies]

Geez, he was doin' that again, huh? I hate when he does that. I always think he's sayin' somethin' mean about me, ya know? Like he's doin' it on purpose.

[Then he remembers "hospital" and his grump deflates.]

Though I guess he kinda could do it then and have plenty to complain about, if he was hurt'n stuff.

[thefuzzyguy]

[That's pretty much how Kurt feels about it.]

Ja, but if he hadn't been he'd have been whining or insulting everybody, anyway.

[catchingflies]

Well, probably. That's just Pietro for ya.

[And that's the guy he considers his best friend here. Way to go, Todd!]

Guess, uh, I should letcha go? Since you're at least sorta okay, and stuff.

[thefuzzyguy]

Oh, uh...

[He doesn't have the energy to be a decent conversationalist, but not being alone with just memories for company has been nice.]

Ja, probably get on with your day. Take care of yourself, mein freund.

[catchingflies]

Hey. You, too, bro.

[And he clicks off. To... flop backwards and breathe a big sigh of relief that nobody can now see or even hear. At least they're okay.

Then he hops off to tell Edmund what happened. If he can even find the guy.]