In Which There Are Doctors and Tuna Sandwiches.
The bed was cold when Casey woke up the next morning. Sunlight streamed in the balcony doors, filtering through the curtains and casting a soft light against the floor. The clock said 12:21 in its large red block numbers. Casey yawned, stretching his arms out and taking up the entire bed, before sitting up. "God, what a night." He murmured, rubbing his eyes. After a moment, he peered over the side of the bed, expecting to see Hanna still sleeping.
Except, the pillow-mattress was empty. Hanna wasn't there.
Casey fought the urge to swear. Hanna was probably just somewhere in the house. He probably got up with Ples and had breakfast or something. He might be watching TV. He could be taking a shower. He wasn't necessarily gone. Casey drew in a deep breath. Yes, his heart was racing. Yes, for some reason, he felt panicked like mad. But that wasn't going to help him if something did happen. If Hanna had wandered outside and gotten lost, or had