Breathing a sigh of relief, the salesman turned the 'open' sign around for the night. Watching his final buyer for the day drive away happily, he couldn't help but grin at the thought of the day's profits. The way sales were going, Craig and Angie's college tuitions would be paid in full. Looking up at the clock on the wall, his smile faded. At this rate, both kids would be long graduated before he actually got to spend any time with them.

Putzing into the office, he snatched up the phone from the desk, hoping desperately the messages were passive. He certainly didn't have the strength left to deal with anything else today.

Groaning, Simpson leaned back in the plastic chair, once again futilely attempting to find a comfortable position. Hospital waiting room chairs were not meant to be inhabited for hours at a time. Looking up at the clock, the teacher was once again in awe of how much time had past. It was almost 9 pm and Jeremiah had yet to be found, despite his best efforts to find the wayward salesman. At this point, he wasn't even sure it would be a good thing for the man to show up. He just might murder him at first sight.

Glancing down the hall, Simpson quickly realized that, regardless of whether the timing was good, he was going to have to confront his old friend. Six hours after he had first tried to contact the man, Joey Jeremiah had finally arrived.

"Snake? What's going on?" Joey demanded, still operating in the panic mode that Simpson's vague messages had sent him into 20 minutes earlier.

Sighing in open relief at the man's much anticipated presence, the teacher couldn't quite keep his frustration at his friend in check. "It's about time. Where the heck have you been? I've been calling you for hours."

"My cell was in my office. What's wrong? What happened? Where're my kids?" The man spouted out at record speed.

Holding up his hands to silence the man, Simpson broke in quickly. "Joey, relax. Angie's taken care of. She's with Spike and Emma. Craig's upstairs. The doctor's seen him. He's going to be fine."

"Well, what happened? How'd he get hurt?" The salesman questioned, slowing his hyper pace slightly at the reassurance that both his kids were, at the least, still alive.

The ridiculous question only served to infuriate his overtired friend. "Hurt? Have you completely lost your mind? He's not hurt, Joe. He's sick."

"Sick?" The man repeated the word skeptically. "Since when?"

"Are you serious? Joey, Craig's been sick for days, at least. How can you not know that? I'm with the kid 40 minutes a day, and it's more than obvious. He lives with you for God's sake." Simpson told him bluntly, completely amazed at how out of touch his old friend had become.

"He's seemed fine." The man defended, racking his mind as he attempted to recall any odd interactions with the teen over the past few days that might have indicated a problem. He couldn't think of any. Then again, he couldn't think of many interactions, period.

As his friend looked over at him, Simpson stared back in awe. "Flushed cheeks? Red eyes? That awful cough? None of this caught your attention?"

"Things have been hectic." The man attempted to defend himself. "I've been distracted. I can't believe he didn't say anything."

"I can." Snake told him flatly, earning himself an angry look from the salesman.

Joey was not exactly amused by what his so-called friend was suggesting. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He demanded.

The teacher wasn't intimidated by the tone, however. Craig's hoarse voice, telling him "You can only expect so much charity from one guy", had made a much more lasting impression on the teacher than his friend's indignation. He had a point to make. And, by God, he was going to make it. He owed that much to Craig. And to Joey for that matter. Someone had to try and help the struggling little family find its way back together.