“...What did you say?”

The voice on the other end of the line sighed impatiently, as if Riley was the one not making sense.

“Look, dude, did you not hear me? Gabriel is missing. You said you know him.”

“I haven’t seen Gabe in years,” Riley said slowly, looking around the office. Others were packing up to go home, though he saw some lingering glances float his way; far too many people had asked him out for after-work drinks. “Sorry, but I don’t know where he is.”

The caller, who at this point Riley could only define as young and male, huffed in frustration.

“I didn’t call thinking you’d know where he is, I’m calling to ask you to help me find him,” they said. Something finally clicked in Riley’s brain.

“Oh. My department is Recovery, but we don’t find people, we reverse damage from magical accidents or conflicts. If you have a missing person, you want the Trackers; I can find the number if you give me a min--”

“I don’t want the fucking Trackers, man!" the caller said, irritation finally bubbling over. "I don’t need the department of magic whatever, I need you. Gabriel gave me specific instructions that you were the one, so you have to help me, alright?”

Riley stared down at his phone in confusion. He’d had more than his fair share of encounters with his past recently, but this was bordering on the absurd. Riley wasn’t anyone’s emergency call-- certainly not that of someone he'd barely known, a long time ago.

“Who are you?” he demanded. Riley was starting to suspect a ruse. The caller went quiet for a beat too long, heightening Riley’s suspicions. Finally they sighed heavily.

“Look, Gabriel-- he's my brother,” they said. All the frustration had dropped, and Riley heard the trembling fear that had hidden beneath. 

“He’s in trouble, and I can’t find him without help. So like, please, will you just come to the house? Just come and see that I’m right and that something happened. Please.”

Before this summer, Riley wouldn’t have let a call get this far. Not getting involved was one of his greatest skills, and nothing about this felt like a good idea. But after everything he’d learned about his own brother recently... he couldn’t bring himself to hang up now.

“Dude,” Gabriel’s brother said after Riley's silence had stretched on too long. “I’m just going to keep calling you until you agree. Personally, I only like a sleepless night if there’s someone else in the bed, but if this is what you want I can just keep calling, and calling, and--”

“Fucking hell, alright,” Riley growled into the phone. On the positive side, a coworker who’d been walking towards him suddenly turned tail and retreated. “Text me the address. But if this is some kind of set up, know that I will kick your ass, and anyone else who’s there.”

The voice on the other end of the line whistled.

“Yeah, you're definitely the right guy.”

***

Riley had never been to Gabe’s place before; he wasn’t sure he’d even been to this part of town. The address was for an apartment building on nearly the opposite end of the city from where Riley lived, which would make getting home later a bitch. He still wasn’t sure why he'd agreed to come, but one train and two busses later, here he was.

Looking around the neighborhood he had to admit that it was at least an unlikely place for reporters to try to ambush him, the way they had when he'd returned. This part of the city looked old, but not in the historic way; more along the lines of forgotten and neglected. The streets here were empty enough that it would be a challenge to hide a news van. 

He accidentally passed Gabe's apartment as he made his way down a row of nondescript buildings. He doubled back to the right number and located the callbox-- several of the buzzers had yellowed, peeling labels beside them, but there was no name besides 4B. Riley pushed the button, already regretting his choices. Barely a moment passed before he was buzzed in.

Usually Riley didn’t mind a building without an elevator, as they tended to make him claustrophobic, but the stairway he climbed was almost narrow enough to do the job. He could feel the heat building against the back of his neck by the time he reached the fourth floor. He took a restorative breath before knocking on unit B.

“Who is it?” a muffled voice asked. It was familiar enough by now.

“Riley Decker."

“Well you sure took your time,” Gabe’s brother said, swinging the door open and bringing them face to face at last.