"Did you ask how long it would take?" Shawn demanded to know over the phone.

She tried to ignore the curt, borderline rude quality to his voice. He was clearly shaken. When she first told him about Van, he could barely talk. His sentences were littered with broken words and muffled sounds of distress. Knowing how upset he was and needing a distraction from her own panicked state, she concentrated on comforting him. However, she wasn't able to mask the worry in her voice and he quickly grew frantic. As the seconds ticked by that frantic feeling turned into a rage fueled by his inability to help and unfortunately for Keeley, she was the only one within striking distance.

"About ten minutes," she replied, shifting slightly. The tiled floor wrecked havoc on her knees, but she stayed where she was, determined to watch over Van.

"Who's talkin' to?" Van murmured, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Stay awake, Van," she ordered, tapping his cheek. It'd been a relief when he started to come too, but he wasn't out of the woods yet. "I'm talking to Shawn. You want to say hello?"

His black lashes lifted. "Don't wanna."

She moved the phone away from her mouth. "He's worried about you, you know."

"Pissed." Van swallowed and turned his head, wincing at each little movement. "Told him to go."

"Well, I'd be pissed too. It was a stupid move."

He made a low growl in the back of his voice. "Go to 'ell."

She flashed him a saccharine sweet smile. "I see the alcohol is still in your system."

"Keeley! Keeley!" Shawn yelled.

She brought the phone back to her ear. "Yes?"

"How is he? What is he saying?"

"He's back to his old cranky self," she replied. It was actually a relief to hear him insult her.

"It's been ten minutes. They're not there. Where are they? What's taking them so long?" Shawn barked.

"I don't know." Tension gathered in the back of her neck and started to spasms. Rubbing her shoulder, she lifted her head and glanced at the clock on the wall. Where was the ambulance? And where was Talon?

"What do you mean you don't know? Did you tell them he's unconscious? That he's been drinking and mixing that with sleeping pills?"

"I told them he's unconscious and about the drinking."

A surge of condemnation filled the line. "Why didn't you tell them about the pills? It could affect how they treat him. That's why they ask you to fill out those stupid forms every time you go to the doctor. What if—"

"Shawn!" she snapped, her nerves on a tight leash. "I did the best I could. I didn't know about the pills at the time." She was tempted to point out he obviously did and could have stopped Van from taking them, but it would have been petty to throw accusations around. Van was his own person. He made his own choices.

After a minute's silence, Shawn let out a contrite sigh. "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm yelling at you. I'm not myself right now. I'm just so...so..."

"I understand," she told him. And truly, she did. The whole situation freaked her out. "How long is it going to take you to get here?"

"I'm still half an hour away. I knew I should have stayed in town. I wanted to, but Van goaded me into going. I never should have listened to him. My gut told me something bad was going to happen tonight, but I chalked it up to a mixture of paranoia and bad burritos."

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