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Out of breath, sweating, and with his heart about to pound its way through his chest, Sem pressed the doorbell of Connor's apartment three times in rapid succession. 

"Come on, answer the door Con," he muttered, staring intently at the camera above the intercom. 

Damn it, he wasn't even sure if Connor was home. Connor didn't pick up the phone when he tried to call him; he got the voicemail. But that could still mean anything. Connor was one of those people who didn't always have their phone on, didn't always check their messages right away. When he was working, it sometimes took him hours to reply to texts. 

Maybe he hadn't looked at his messages yet. Then again, maybe he had, and he was so angry he no longer wanted to talk. Maybe Shannon hadn't even gone after Connor, despite knowing his name and phone number. 

The intercom finally clicked. "Yes?" 

Connor, thank God. Sem sighed in relief. "Con it's me, open up." 

He heard Connor breathe on the other side of the line. There was an another click, indicating he'd stepped away from the intercom. The entrance door swung open a second later however, and Sem quickly slipped inside the building. 

Connor didn't even say hello. Was he mad? He was furious, wasn't he? No, if he was he wouldn't have let him in at all. This was so messed up. The uncertainty was almost worse than everything else. Sem cursed under his breath as he dashed up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

The front door to Connor's apartment was open just a crack, but there was no Connor to greet him. Pushing the door open, Sem stepped inside, his sense of dread quickly growing. The hallway was empty too.

"Con?"

He kept walking, and when he entered the living room, he finally found Connor standing in front of him.

Sem had mentally prepared himself for anger on the way up, but he wasn't prepared at all. A vice-like grip that made it hard to breathe tightened on his chest when he saw the look on Connor's face. Rigid, far too composed to be natural, his dark eyes guarded and cautious. Connor was looking at him in a way Sem never wanted to be looked at by him. He was mad. He was so mad.

"Look," Sem started slowly, taking a few unsure steps in Connor's direction, "Know that Shannon, the girl who sent you... stuff, is my ex-girlfriend okay? She hates me. Please don't take anything she says too seriously. She's probably exaggerating or lying." 

Connor's brows drew together further. "I know she's your ex-girlfriend," he finally broke his silence. "You dumped her. Three days after sleeping with her-- the first person she ever slept with. Is she exaggerating or lying about that?" 

There was a hard, cold edge to Connor's voice that made Sem cringe. "...No."

"Who is Emma?"

"Who is-- " Sem's eyes widened, "A friend! Only a friend!"

 She was what brought him in this mess in the first place. The cause of everything. If she hadn't been such a snoop. If she hadn't been so idiotic to serve his ass to Shannon on a silver platter.  

"Well, she was a friend. She liked me, but I don't like her for obvious reasons. We hung out for a bit, but as friends. Ask her, she'd tell you."  

Connor took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Then he turned his back on Sem, leaning with his palms on the kitchen table. 

That was clearly not what he'd wanted to hear. Sem cursed, moving to the side of the table next to Connor, staying close to him. "Christ. What has Shannon been telling you about Emma?" 

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