Every Time Is Like the First

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Degrassi or anything else I reference herein. No profit is being made and no infringement intended

A/N: There's some language and offstage (and eventually the possibility of onstage) violence going on in this fic. If that upsets or offends you unduly, it would be good to give this one a pass.

1.

Spinner Mason looked up from his counter and saw Tony Balducci, also known as Jay's boss, staring at him. Tony was not what anyone would call a regular customer, so it couldn't have been the burgers pissing him off.

"Coffee?" Spinner asked.

"Where the Hell is he?" Tony asked. "You know?"

"Who," Spinner asked. "Jay?" Duh, you idiot, Spin thought. Who else? Tony looked like he wanted to kick someone's ass. Jay was the one who usually caused people to make that face.

Spin automatically poured Tony a coffee and had already made up his mind not to accept any cash from the man. It was Time to Try to Get Jay out of Trouble and Spin planned to do whatever he could to butter Jay's boss up. A happily sugared and caffeinated man was a man who was less likely to give someone the ax.

"You seen him?" Tony asked, accepting the sugar and half & half when Spinner offered them. He hadn't struck Spin as a light-n-sweet sort of a guy, but you never could tell.

Spinner shook his head. Jay usually came in every day or two but it occurred to him that he hadn't seen him for a few days. It was a little weird but not unheard of. Maybe he just discovered the Indian takeout place that opened a few blocks away. He'd be back after the tandoori honeymoon was over.

"Well, he didn't show up yesterday or today," Tony said. He took a gulp. "No call, no nothing. Not like him."

Crap, Spinner thought. This calls for donuts. He popped a glazed one and a maple sugared one onto a plate and slid it in front of Tony.

"No need to fill me full of sugar, kid; I ain't firing him yet. I just want some answers," Tony said, taking a bite out of the glazed. "I've been calling his phone all morning. All I wanna know is whether I should be worried or if I can go back to being pissed."

"Hmm," Spinner said. Tony obviously thought this was serious, and continued to nag Spin until he told the cook, Will, to keep an eye on things till Peter came in. It was slow, and it wouldn't take Spinner and Tony too long to go to Jay's and beat his probably hungover ass for not picking up his phone.

At the front door, Spinner buzzed Jay's apartment and waited. After ten minutes of no answer, he tried the door and realized that the landlord still hadn't fixed the lock.

"Come on, I know I pay the kid better than this," Tony joked. He sounded a little nervous and that made Spinner nervous, so that he banged on Jay's door a little harder than he meant to, wincing when the noise made someone's dog bark.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Jay," Spinner muttered, trying the doorknob even though he expected it to be locked. It wasn't.

Spinner, admittedly, had seen a few too many cop shows, but the sight of the open door, the sound of that dog barking and nothing else, and the smell of some food having clearly gone off, creeped him out. And that dog, wherever the hell it lived, kept friggin barking. There was just something too Law and Order about the whole thing. Spinner was sure, suddenly, that he'd walk as far as the kitchen and see a bloody leg sticking out of the bedroom.

But he couldn't stop himself. Steeling themselves for whatever carnage awaited, they took a couple of steps in and stopped. On the coffee table in front of the TV, there was an open container of what might have been General Tso's Chicken. From where he stood, Spin could see that it was crawling with maggots. Jay's cell was next to it. Spin stared as a couple of the little squirmy bugs tried to slither to the phone. It was fascinating, in a way and not that different from his old ant farm. Tony went in a few more steps, just enough to be sure that the bedroom and bathroom were empty.

The sound of Tony snapping his fingers in front of his face woke him up.

"Shit," Spinner said. "Um…"

"Don't touch anything," Tony said, taking out his phone. "Don't move." Next thing they knew, cops were absolutely everywhere, asking the same questions over and over and taking pictures and doing other cop stuff. He passively answered the questions. Yes, they were pretty good friends. Yes, Jay had a girlfriend, but she was a couple thousand miles away right now. No, he hadn't seen him since Wednesday or Thursday. Maybe Friday morning, so that was, what? Four days?

Damn.

He gave several phone numbers to the police. Manny in LA. Alex. He mentioned one of Jay's uncles, but could not supply the man's number. And there was also the one who almost handled Spin's divorce. He'd ask Emma when she got out of class, but if she didn't still have his card, they'd have to check Jay's phone, once they dusted it, or whatever it was they had to do to the thing. After that, it might need a charge before they could use it. He always let the battery die. One of the bugs had almost reached it. Spinner found himself rooting for it. You're almost there! Don't give up! He thought. Then he shook his head to clear it because that was a messed up thing to be thinking about.

"Do you need to sit down, sir?" one of the cops asked. Took him a minute to realize the cop was talking to him. The cop ushered him into the hall so that he could rest on some steps.

"Naw, I'm okay," Spinner said, realizing he'd just been babbling about Jay's phone and possibly even the bugs. He wasn't sure. "What do you think that was? General Tso's?"

"I don't know, sir, but maybe you should take a few deep breaths. Out here, by the window."

"I'm okay," Spin repeated. "It's just a little creepy in there."

"Spin," Tony called. "Maybe you should get back to work or whatever. I think I can take care of the rest of this for now."

Spinner looked at his watch. Shit. It was after three already; the place would be full. The cops were okay with letting him go. They took his contact info and sent him on his way.

2.

Peter Stone got to the Dot to start his shift and found a total madhouse. Asked Will where the boss went but Will didn't know.

"Said he'd be right back," Will said, dumping some fries into the oil and shaking salt into the basket that he'd just taken out.

Peter guessed that Spin was just out on a quick marital booty call. It was what Peter would do in his place, after all. He grinned and made a mental note to tease him about it.

Half an hour later, while balancing several dishes on each arm and taking tiny steps to keep them balanced, Peter decided that it wasn't cute anymore. Boss or no boss, Spin needed to get his ass back there and help.

It took Spinner about another fifteen or twenty minutes to get back.

"What the hell?" Peter asked.

"Don't ask," Spinner said. He passed by, almost oblivious to all the snapping fingers in the room. He went behind the counter and when Peter got back there, he saw the guy washing his hands till they were bright red.

"Dude!" Peter said.

"Who's the tuna wrap for?" Spinner asked. A blonde raised her hand. He brought it over to her as Peter watched incredulously.

"Hey!" Spinner said. "Wake up, we got people to feed."

3.

When her phone rang, Manny Santos had been watching a Buffy rerun and working her way through some chicken alfredo from the pizza place down the block. The caller ID said Restricted.

"Is this Manuela Santos?" a way too official sounding voice said.

"Um, yes," she said.

"I'm Detective Rodriguez from the Toronto Police Department," the voice said. And just like that, Manny scoured her mind for anything that she might possibly have done wrong. Ever. In her life. She wondered exactly how seriously the Toronto Police took it if you forgot and threw your newspaper in the wrong bin.

"I'm calling to ask about a Jason Hogart, and I'm told that you have a relationship with him?"

Jay, you son of a bitch, Manny thought. What did you do this time?

"Why?" she asked. "What happened?"

"I'm told that you're his girlfriend, is that accurate?"

"What—?" Manny asked, then, sensing she wouldn't get anywhere until she answered the question, said that she was his girlfriend. She used the present tense with the cop, but the past tense had begun to enter her brain. "What happened?"

"I need to ask you about his whereabouts, ma'am. Have you seen or heard from him lately?"

"I'm in Los Angeles," she said. "So no. I haven't seen him in a couple weeks at least. Is he in some kind of trouble?" Say no, say no, oh God, say no, she thought. Then she thought. That asshole, if he's in trouble again, I will dump his ass so fast—

"Well, Miss Santos," the cop began, "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but we've received a missing persons report on a Jason Hogart and we want to cover all of our bases. Contact his family, friends in the hopes that he might be there with them."

"So he's not in any trouble?" Manny asked, though she doubted they'd tell her if he was, in case she was hiding him.

The detective might have thought that was a weird thing to say. "Well, ma'am, his employer and a friend of his have filed this report and are clearly quite concerned for him, so we're working to find Mr. Hogart and hopefully bring him home safe."

"Oh my God," Manny said. "Um…no, I haven't heard from him." She'd actually sent off a couple of angry messages in the last day or so, referring to Jay as He Who Does Not Answer Texts. She'd assumed he'd just left his phone at work over the weekend or something stupid like that, but the cop was really starting to scare her. The detective wanted her to write down some contact information so she had to keep him hanging for a minute while she found a pen and paper.

After she hung up, Manny put her phone down and stared at her dinner until her brain connected the words "missing" and "person" to her boyfriend. Manny picked up her phone again and scrolled down to S, for Spinner, yelling at him as soon as he picked up.

"Spinner! What the fuck?" Manny began, and didn't stop until she ran out of breath.

Spinner didn't know much, just gave her a rundown of what he'd seen. Deserted, unlocked apartment. Rotting food. Cell phone. "You'd have called the cops, too, Manny. He left his place in some major hurry. Some shit happened; I just don't know what." A million possibilities ran through her mind, none of them sounded like they'd end well. Some of them ended with a high speed chase somewhere. Others involved chalk outlines.

"What could have happened?" she whispered.

"I dunno," Spinner said. "The cops got nothing. Alex just called me. She's got nothing. Cops called his Dad, too, I think."

"Well, I'm coming," Manny said.

"Yeah. I think you better," he said. He didn't argue, which meant he was pretty worried. She heard Emma's voice in the background and then Spinner put his phone on speaker mode so they could all talk for a while, mostly about how soon she thought she could get there and who would pick her up from the airport.

"It's gonna be okay, Manny," Emma lied.

"Yeah," Manny lied. "I know." She hung up and stared out the window for a second, trying to think of what she needed to do. She'd been planning to go home at the end of the week anyway, having just finished ADR for Morning Theft, previously known as The Untitled Michael Ray Project. She'd been planning to show up early, ironically, to surprise Jay. While waiting for her time in the recording booth, she'd stayed awake by imagining his reaction if she let herself into his apartment and waited for him wearing only her new heels. And maybe his baseball cap.

Now, all she wanted was to see him and get to the bottom of whatever mess he'd fallen into.

3.

This was not the first time Jay had disappeared. It probably wasn't the fifth time he'd disappeared, in fact. So really, Max Hogart mused, one would think that he'd be used to this sort of thing by now. That he'd stop imagining the moment he'd be asked to identify his son's body.

But the novelty never quite wore off. Every time was like the first.

Max hadn't seen his son in four years. His brother Larry had occasional contact, but it had been his brother in law, Steve, who had gotten the call that Jay'd gone missing again. Steve was the one who had met Jay's friends. Steve was the one who talked to him, who hadn't managed to alienate him so completely.

But, Max told himself, that was not important. What was important was where Jay'd gone this time. This was different from all the other times he'd taken off. When Max heard about the untouched food and the unlocked door, he started to imagine the worst.

Shortly after the Toronto police contacted him, Max got another phone call, this time from some kid with Keanu Reeves' voice. He took him for a telemarketer, almost hanging up on him, but then he mentioned Jay, and Max ended up staying on the line for over an hour, only stopping because the boy, Spinner, was clearly starting to sag.

The next day, Max and Steve drove to the little burger joint where Spinner worked. The place was closed, and a little empty for Max's taste, the only thing saving it from being depressing was the lingering smell of burgers and onion rings. And coffee.

The door opened, and Steve greeted Spinner properly, shaking his hand and patting his shoulder, like they were old friends. Steve, though technically a little young for the job, came off more like Jay's father than Max did. And that wasn't depressing at all. Not a bit.

Meanwhile, this Spinner, though Max had expected a typical stoner, seemed entirely too sober and at that moment, a little more grown up than Max felt. He watched the kid bustle around the empty restaurant. He gestured at the counter.

"Mr. Hogart," he said, pointing to a seat. So he was Mr. Hogart, but the kid was on a first name basis with Steve.

A really cute blond introduced herself as Emma, Spinner's wife. The kid didn't look old enough to qualify for a library card, but he had a wife. Another kid, Peter, his name was, informed Max that Spinner was essentially running the restaurant at his age. When Max was his age he could barely remember to keep his car gassed.

And then…

"Mr. Hogart?" a nervous voice said from behind him. He turned around to see a brunette that he'd somehow missed on the way in.

"Max," he said, automatically.

"Okay, Max," she said. "I'm Manny."

"The girlfriend," Peter piped up. Everyone ignored him.

"I've been wanting to meet you forever," Manny said.

"Oh, well," Max said, suddenly wishing he'd changed into something less wrinkly before he came. "Thanks. It's nice to meet you." Wish I'd heard of you before today. He took a minute to wonder when the last time he'd met any of Jay's girlfriends, or his friends for that matter. He remembered him running around with another brunette, but he hadn't once spoken to her. He'd never felt like the type of father that was welcome in teenage company. He'd wanted to be the Dad who stocked the fridge with pizza rolls and let the whole neighborhood hang around. He turned out to be a dad of the lowercase d variety. The one whom his own kid wouldn't talk to. He's been told that he can be more than a little cold, standoffish even, but this girl either didn't notice or didn't really care. She grabbed his arm and led him to the counter, sitting next to him.

"So," she said. "Want some fried stuff? Because I could really use some fried stuff."

"Fried stuff it is," he said.

"The usual?" Spinner asked her.

"Yeah," she said, then, turning to Max. "Would you like a Spinwich?" She described what went into one or those and laughed at the look of horror on Max's face.

"Gotta work your way up to a Spinwich," Spinner said, also seeing his face. "How 'bout a cheeseburger?"

"Best offer I've had all year," Max said.

Of course, Steve decided to live dangerously and order that Spinwich monstrosity, which got him a high five from Peter. Steve had just turned thirty-six and maybe looked about thirty. Max himself was fifty-one, but in his rumpled suit he thought that he could probably pass for sixty. This meant that the kids were way more comfortable talking to Steve, and for a change, that was okay because Max was damned if he could think of thing one to say.

"How was your flight, Manny?" Steve asked.

"It was okay," Manny said. "Got delayed, but it was short notice, so I figure beggars can't be choosers."

"Where from?" Max asked.

"L.A.," she said.

"She's an actress," Steve said. That rang a bell. Seemed Larry might have mentioned some actress Jay was dating. Max should have made the connection.

"And sometimes waitress, barista, clerk, whatever," Manny said, downplaying.

"I got a real kick out of that Jay and Silent Bob Go Canadian, Eh?" Steve said.

That's the actual title of a movie? Max thought. Somehow it made him think of Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death.

Manny beamed at Steve. Max had an idea that most people would watch a crappy-sounding movie like that just for her.

"When does the other one come out?" Steve asked. "High School—"

"Musical High," she corrected. Then, she spelled the title so that they'd get the pun: Mewesical High, named after the director, apparently a guy named Mewes. Max would Google the guy later. "It comes out around Christmas, actually, so I figure it has a really good chance of being completely lost in the shuffle. But I had a good time making it."

"That's the most important thing," Steve said. It was easy for him to say. Steve designed videogames and therefore spent all day doing impressive sounding stuff Max would never understand the appeal of, but the kid seemed to really enjoy it. Manny was fascinated by this of course. But, all too soon, she turned to Max and asked what he did.

"I'm a tax attorney," he said.

"Oh?" Manny said, trying to sound interested.

"Wish there was a way to make that sound like fun," Max said, wrinkling his nose. "But it can be. It's a never-ending challenge and you deal with some interesting characters."

"You sound just like Jay," Manny said. "He's always got a story about The Things People Do to Their Cars." Max heard the capital letters in her voice. "It's good to know who he takes after."

"Don't tell him that," Max said. "Or, actually, tell him that. I'd love to see his face." Then he remembered why they were all meeting in the first place and the idea that he might never see his son again hit him hard.

"I'll even take pictures," Manny said. She smiled, but it was clear that she was thinking the same thing.

Max stared at a little heart sticker that someone had put on the counter. No initials, just a little heart. Spinner put his burger down directly over it.

"Here," he said, breaking the tension a little. "Nom Appetit." Max nodded.

Manny stared at her fries, looking puzzled. "You mean, bon appetit, Spin?"

"Whatever," Spinner said, gesturing with a spatula.

Max smiled as he shook the ketchup bottle.

"Spin says stuff like that that all the time," Manny explained. "Jay calls him Yogi Berra sometimes."

Steve and Max laughed. Peter said "Who?" Emma rolled her eyes at him. Spinner reached behind him and stole some of Manny's fries. She seemed to have lost interest in them.

"You really should eat, honey," Max said.

"Uh-huh," she said, still not eating. Max thought that somebody needed to say something comforting and wracked his brain for ideas.

"Hey," Spinner said, coming to the rescue. "It's gonna be okay. We'll find him. Or he'll call or show up and we'll kick his ass and everything'll go back to normal. Got it?"

"Uh-huh," she said, unconvinced.

"He's always come back before," Max said.

"What do you mean?" Manny asked.

"He used to take off all the time," Max said. "He'd be gone a couple days, maybe a week. Then he'd show up like nothing happened."

"He used to do that?" she asked. Obviously, he'd never done it to her. On one hand that was a sign of maturity; on the other hand, that meant that this latest disappearance was cause for real alarm.