Carlos was startled and, and for an irrational moment he thought he might be pushed down the stairs. But, again, it was an irrational thought and Carlos felt guilty about thinking it. Upon realizing where he was being directed though, his stomach felt like it was sucked into a small, localized black hole.
Hancock probably told the Watch that he wanted to talk to Carlos. This was it. He was going to tell Carlos that this wasn’t working. Because it wasn’t – Carlos knew that. He wouldn’t blame Hancock for ending it… though it didn’t change the fact that this was going to hurt so much.
Carlos resigned himself. This was it, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it but… go and face the music. He could do that. He had to. Just stand there and agree with Hancock when he said that it was over.
He had expected, when he walked in, to see Hancock on the couch. Maybe playing with a jet canister or even his knife. Collected, calm, and serious. He didn’t expect to see the prone form on the couch with the mess of drug paraphernalia scattered around him. Carlos was confused at first, but as he cautiously stepped closer and started to put together what all the mess meant – that, plus the image of Hancock lying down motionless – Carlos’ mind jumped to conclusions and he suddenly panicked.
“HANCOCK!!” he screamed and he rushed forward. Carlos used his boot to sweep away the needles scattered dangerously at the front of the couch and he crouched down to take Hancock’s face in his hands and examine it. “Hancock! Han, can you hear me??”
The shout hardly registered, and the ghoul didn’t move, not until Carlos physically moved him. He groaned softly, dark eyes moving to his, unfocused and hazy. It took a few moments for him to register who was touching him and once he did, the tears returned. Choking out a sob, Hancock reached up with shaky hands and gently cupped his face, hardly believing he was even real.
“C-Carlos? You came back?” He breathed in disbelief. “You–– I-I’m so sorry. I fucked up, I-I didn’t mean to–– I didn’t want to m-make you uncomfortable, I–– please don’t leave me…..”
Carlos was trying to figure out what to do. When Hancock touched him a hand automatically went up to take one of Hancock’s and give it a tight squeeze. Carlos took a look around at the needles and empty canisters and he felt overwhelmed.
“Han, did you… did you take all this??” he asked seriously. He then spotted bottles among the items and, somehow, his fear grew. He mixed drugs and alcohol?? Hancock was a hearty individual, as a ghoul, but Carlos feared that not even he would sober up in one piece.
The Perfect Scientist 