Thea sighs a bit, but gets up out of bed and walks over to her laptop. "Where the hell have you been?" she asks, seeming like she doubts she'll get an acceptable response.

"Uh, somewhere... Kinda hard on that one. Ex-explain after..." A pause for a quick cough.

"Just, uh... How do you..." Audible swallow. "Pull a bullet out of yourself? Or like... Deal with that."

And now the camera switches our view over. Cynthia is sitting in a payphone, left arm holding the phone and her right bloody. There's a bullet wound in her upper-right-arm. She's shaking slightly, and doesn't look good.

"It… it probably depends on where it is? Like, if it's in your hand, you probably get tweezers and pull it out? I mean, you probably do that anyway, but it depends on where as to whether you seriously need to get to a hospital first." She frowns. "If you have a bullet wound, why are you not at the hospital?"

"A-arm. I, uh, don't think I should. And... I'm kinda falling asleep? I can't really... Walk to it. Where do you even buy tweezers? I'm kinda at the gas station near the edge of town."

Thea sounds a bit incredulous when she next speaks. "What do you mean you're kinda at the gas station? Is anybody around? Because you realize you should probably, like, get someone to make sure you don't die, right?" Then she realizes that's not exactly the best thing to say to the gunshot victim and appends, "Not that that'll happen, of course."

She starts looking around online for some more information.

"I'm outside it? Payphone... Is that still 'at' the gas station? I dunno..." Followed by a loud yawn. "I can look inside I guess?"

"Are you… are you going into shock or something? Do you even know what going into shock looks like?" she asks, a bit shrilly. "I have no idea what shock is like, but it is bad! It is super super bad and apparently a risk of being shot, and uh, you can probably get tweezers from a pharmacy or something, but really you should be applying pressure and dialing 911!"

The internet is not helping her much with this, other than 'try to avoid shock by keeping them warm with a blanket and making sure they know you're there' and also 'wait for the ambulance'.

... "Are you going into shock?" Let's not make a stupid joke about being near electronics. "I uh, could probably get back to my place? I'm not... Really carrying any money right now."

"I am not going into shock, no, I'm not the one with a fucking gunshot wound." She sighs. "How the fuck did you even get a gunshot wound? Wait, no, actually I don't want to know. I just… It's probably not safe for you to be doing anything other than dialing 911 and waiting for an ambulance, okay?"

"I said that wasn't a good idea! I'll uh... Walk back to my place anyways. I can at least give decent directions there if I call, and if you're concerned you can... I dunno, come over? Or bring me a phone that doesn't charge two dollars."

"Okay but why is going to the hospital a bad idea, like, you got shot, that should be literally the first place you think of going?" She shakes her head and mutters a bit. "Okay, whatever, yeah, directions to your place?" So she can call the ambulance and have them pick you up anyway, how about? Ugh.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Cynthia gives the address and some needless directions. If looked up, it's not in the 'nice' part of town.

[Location Added: Cynthia's Apartment]

"Okay?... I'll head over. Sorry about... This. Calling. Whatever."

"I just, could you please phone the hospital? Like, a gunshot is super serious."

"Uhm. I'm missing something here... I suck at talking. Just, I don't have two dollars! I'm sorry if that doesn't make sense, I'll try to explain it better later, just remind me. I'm going to head over..," Cough cough. "Alright? Bye."

Click.

Cynthia staggers to her feet, and shambles off.

Thea… Thea is a bit stunned. What the hell, who gets shot and then doesn't call an ambulance, what.

She puts her phone down and sits there for a few moments, debating what to do, then turns off her laptop.

She doesn't think she can really… help? Like, other than being a literal other person, but Cynthia doesn't seem to want help, what with refusing the ambulance, ugh.

She just… you know, it's not her fault? And it's not her problem? This is nothing to do with her, and Cynthia just disappeared, and she was just… totally out of line before, and. And Thea feels like she's making excuses not to have to go, so she doesn't know whether it's valid that she doesn't want to go, or if she's being silly, or what.

Ultimately, she decides that she was not called upon to help, not more than to talk about how to deal with a stupid bullet wound, and she gave her answer, and her answer was to call an ambulance.

So she'll go back to bed. And feel super guilty about it.

She might not get much sleep.

Tick.

Tock.

Time passes.

Thea does get some sleep. She's pretty tired, and once she gets to sleep she can stay asleep mostly fine.

But then she wakes up.

And the guilt does not literally eat her up, but oh my god, what if. What if. She does not know, she could be doing something, but she does not know what nor how nor whether to nor if she actually wants to nor if she should and it is so, totally, superbly, horribly wrong.

At about midday, she tries calling Cynthia's cell, hoping she'll pick up and the payphone thing was just a temporary thing.

And that Cynthia is not dead from shock or something.

Because that would be pretty terrible.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Answering machine.

The message is Cynthia talking, sounding quite happy. "Hi, Cynthia's cell. Couldn't pick up, leave a message!"

Then in a hushed voice, "That's it right?" and murmurs of someone else in the background, male. Some general giggling occurs (a few people?) before the beep signals the end, and to speak.

Thea doesn't really know what to say, so she settles on, "Uh, it's Thea. I was kinda wondering if you were okay, you know, after last night."

Then she hangs up.

And then she gets back to the worrying and the guilt.

Eventually, she decides that she should just stop being stupid, so she tells her dad that she's going out for a bit and then leaves with her phone and bag and jacket in the direction of Cynthia's house.

Walk walk walk. Not too far of a walk, let alone it's not walking during the Midnight Hour so it's easier. That stuff pays off!

Thea arrives at an apartment building. Small single apartments vertically arranged and with vacancies. Seems alright of a place, though Thea might be a little too well off to consider living here.

Not many people around, no lock to walk inside, and she has the unit number of Cynthia's place.

Well, it's a bit surprising that the Midnight Hour is already paying off, but she's not gonna complain.

She goes up to Cynthia's apartment and knocks on the door.

Knocking gets a response that sounds like someone waking up to a jackhammer going off outside and having to get up hungover from just inside the door.

Shortly the door opens, to a Cynthia rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her right sleeve is stained red, leading from a rag on her shoulder. She looks pale, but is atleast alive, although the floor just behind her looks like a murder scene. Dried blood leading from the bathroom to a rollmat near the door, which has a nice dried blood puddle next to it. The sheets are also messy and are half-clinging to Cynthia's foot.

Cynthia mutters something that could be translated into a 'hello' but probably is still waking up.

Thea looks at Cynthia, and doesn't really know what to say other than, "You look like shit."

"Sowwy..." Yawn. "Woo woke me up."

Meaning missed.

Thea frowns. "Are you…" She hesitates. "Do you…" Then she winces a bit. "I don't think you ever actually explained why you didn't want to go to the hospital?"