Dude, this is messed up.
You've muttered those five words so many times in the last couple of days; they're beginning to seem like your answer to everything. But that's mostly because everything anybody has said to you has warranted that response.
People keep telling you that he's done a runner - he's gone missing. You keep telling them that he's not the only one, but nobody seems to care. You think it's weird that nobody but a select few is worrying about her. It seems here that people are being quick to target her with the blame, but you think that's maybe because she's not here to defend herself. Because she's gone missing too.
Maybe this wouldn't be happening, you think, if you hadn't been such a bastard about him walking away from that medical conference when he found out Kim was still pregnant. Who the hell were you to give him a hard time about it? How the hell could you know what that would have felt like? You've tried to put yourself in that situation. You've tried to imagine what you would do in that situation, what you would do if Carla had lied to you about Izzie – but you can't. It's totally unimaginable.
But so is this.
You've been walking about the hospital, your hand keeping a tight grip on your cell phone, juts in case one of them calls to say 'Hey, I'm at such and such a place' or 'Hey, I'm not about to jump from the rooftop of a multi-storey building.' You don't think he would do anything that drastic – she could be a different story altogether, which has something to do with why you're surprised nobody seems to be so worried – but still you've been up to the roof four times to check. Just in case.
Dr Cox walks briskly towards you. "Still no sign of Carol yet?"
"Not yet."
"And… and Barbie?"
You wave your cell phone slightly. "Working on it."
"Let us know if you hear anything, okay."
He walks away, and you back to thinking where either of them could be – places you haven't tried yet, places you should try again. You hold down the '2' button, the speed dial for his cell phone. It rings and rings, but there's no answer. "Hey, man," you say after the beep, "call me back if…when you get this." You hang up the phone with one hand, and rattle your fingers against the cafeteria table. You flick through your contacts list of your cell phone; maybe you'll have some sudden epiphany of where either one of them could be. You stop on a number. You think. Would she go there? It's hardly likely, but at this point, anywhere's worth a shot.
First ring.
Second ring.
This is when you realise that with each phone call you've made, you've been counting how many times it's been ringing and slowly losing hope each time. But when someone does answer, it's like you're in a pitch-black tunnel and somebody has shone a light for you to see. This time is no exception.
"Hello? Is that Mrs Reid?" You hold the phone away from your ear slightly as the woman on the other end attempts to flirt. If her mother was like this with everyone, you think, no wonder she was screwed up. The woman stops speaking, so you begin. "Um, I was wondering if you had seen or heard anything from Elliot?" You remain quiet as the woman tells you some shallow stories about her daughter, but you don't have time for this. "Look, this is really important. Have you heard anything from Elliot in the last couple of day at all?"
The woman stays silent for a moment. "No, I haven't," she says, and it feels like that light in your pitch-black tunnel just disappeared. " Is something wrong?"
Everything's wrong, you want to say. But you don't. "Uh, no. Look, if you do hear anything from her would you please tell her to call Turk."
The woman asks you for a phone number.
"Just tell her to call Turk. She'll know what it means."
The phone call ends quickly after that. You toss the cell phone on the table and quietly curse. You feel Carla's hands touching your shoulders and you smile.
"Any luck?" she asks hopefully.
It breaks your heart that you don't have better news. "This is messed up," you mutter.
You think this maybe it's passed the point of no return.