You've almost saved enough when you hear a knock on your door. As usual, you're a little surprised that it doesn't come off the hinges. You want to find a weapon to bring with you- this apartment isn't without its share of shouting matches and hallway fights just outside the door. You settle for yourself, hearing the door knock again, just hard enough to be heard but never more than courteous. You imagine this person isn't from around here if they're knocking like that.
You turn the TV off and let the microwave run as you go to answer the door.
"Hellome?" you blurt.
Fox looks back at you from outside the door. His hair's still growing and now it's more even. He doesn't have his kids or wife with him, which somehow serve to make him look older, more exhausted. You wonder how long you've been gone, because he looks fourteen years older.
You start with "Can I help you?" but by the time you finish you sound more stunned.
He looks at you with a nod, not even forcing a smile. This somehow scares you further.
"Please say something or I'm slamming the door," you demand.
After a second, still looking at not much in particular, he finally does.
"Come with me."
You don't even have words for him, but you let the microwave run and walk out with him- skirt, tank top, flip flops, and all.