71 Serendipity Street, Friday Afternoon

Unlike what certain blonde parties might have presumed, Mitchell hadn't high-tailed it off the island after all. He was still here, methodically picking through everything he knew - partly so he'd be prepared, but mostly because he didn't relish the idea of having to deal with Eric hitting him again.

But he was starting to run out of crap to find.

It didn't occur to him until much later in the week - read: now - to realise there was a voicemail sitting on his phone. He had dim memories of sending George off some questionable texts or something right after the whole coroner deal. He wondered if it was about that.

He jammed the phone onto speaker while he went back through going through some stacks. True enough, it was George's voice on the other end of the line.

"Where are you? What's happened to you, Mitchell? I keep dragging you from that world, but you keep sliding back, and, and I, can't risk-- you anymore, there's Nina to think of, and, and Annie, and I think you should leave us alone now--"

The message went abruptly silent.

Mitchell stared at the phone from the other end of the room.

Right.

[[ mostly establishy, George's message taken from Being Human 2x08, but open if anyone has reason to visit. ]]