Somewhere Kaleb and Lorna were supposed to be enjoying dinner, and a decent night.
Somewhere there was a bowl of soup that shouldn’t have been finished.
Somewhere was the person that knew why none of these things happened…

     …but that was 37 hours ago.
                Kaleb Miller had a screaming headache…
                    …Lorna wasn’t here….

           …more importantly,
                               Where was ‘here’?

         It was bright when his eyes cracked open. A blurry shape was drawing back a curtain. Kellan? No he couldn’t feel his brother in the back of his skull chiding him about having a … this wasn’t a hangover. Also, this wasn’t his bed. Where the hell was he? The light was too bright and his head was screaming at him hearing his pulse thunder around his skull. He tried to lift a hand to shield his eyes but his limbs were too sluggish to do this effectively. There was a discontent grunt while his head tried to turn to the side; blurs became waving patches of light and shadow.

         A voice that was unfamiliar to him greeted with warm aplomb, "Ah, you are still with the living. Excellent." The words rang around his head like a bell going off. He was able to grasp the immediate assessment that he he was definitely heavily sedated. He was comfortable eough, maybe? His limbs felt filled with lead and- where was Lorna? Why was he here? He was supposed to be- where was he supposed to be?? How'd he get from dinner with Lorna to- where the hell was he? To a point was she alright? Too many questions came too fast, though the adrenaline from trying to sort out what happened tried to sober him swiftly.

This was not okay. Everything about this was not okay.

         He tried to find out more about where he was. Find some trace sound wave to latch onto while he couldn't see. Oh trying to manipulate anything right now was like trying to nail jell-o to a tree. Things were coming into focus but he didn't recognize any of this. The room was stunning; antique furniture carefully and well crafted stood in the room that was clearly intended for a guest. There was a writing desk and a wardrobe. There was a large picture window that seemed to have no ground foliage immediately visible out of it. Well that generally meant he was at least on a second floor...of...? The second or better floor of someplace one might spend a fortune to stay in for an evening. Even the bed was sizable and incredibly comfortable. There was a glass of water on the nightstand next to the ... IV stand? Wherever this was they were taking absolutely impeccable care of him like a valued guest.

         Glassy blue eyes drift to his arm where there were two bags suspended, one clear and the other yellow, running tubes that went to needles into his arm. Tape over a cotton ball suggested blood work maybe? Reflexively his hand tightened into a fist trying to make sense of this. He couldn't wrap his brain of wet cement around any scenario where that went well. He wanted to know what happened and where Lorna was, and he wanted answers immediately. Forming words seemed to be a challenge to get his face to cooperate, though, and all that the sonic could manage was a faint groan of protest.

         The figure in the room speaking to him crossed from the window back to the bedside. He was just under an average height. He was older and bald on top with a halo of hair hanging on for hope by a thinning thread, and greying at the temples. His eyes creased as he smiled and Kaleb recognized him. He didn't know who he was but he remembered seeing him a few weeks ago at dinner. That stupid dinner he took Lorna to at one of his father's buildings where they'd run into Maximus. He didn't know who this guy was, or how he knew his father or the relative social group, but he remembered him commenting about Lorna's hair and he muted him. Kaleb instantly regretted doing so because he had no idea who he was or what his angle was. The voice was kind in tone, but the words held no solace for him.

         "Mr. Kaleb Miller, you have outdone yourself. We didn't think you'd bring the woman to us, but it seems many were wrong to question you in this. You should know they are grateful and that your assistance is not unnoticed." The older gentlemen pulled a syringe and filled it from a glass jar before swabbing Kaleb's arm and injecting him with it. Pleasantly he comforted, "For now you need rest and when you are well they may wish to speak to you." This was not comforting. This was not comforting at all.

         Kaleb tensed every muscle he could as dread gripped him right by the vulnerables. His limbs soon became impossibly heavy with lethargy again as sedation started to quickly grab hold. Kaleb couldn't move, he couldn't warp his will around the few ambient sound waves that were present. Senses were dulled and energy was just depleting as things seemed to drift further away from him. He was trapped in his own body. No, this was not how this was supposed to be. His vision tunneled on him swiftly, and his thoughts slows from a crawl to being inert.

He wanted to know how in the ever living Nine Hells this related back to his family and his familial obligations.

He wanted to know where the hell Lorna was.

He wanted to see his brother Kellan.

He wanted...

to stay...