Chapter Text
Work had been so slow recently. After the whole Misty and Amelia thing, work had gone up, and then down, up again, and now they were in the slums. I guess it was a good thing that crime and the need for PI’s were going down, but still, man. He needed money to afford getting drunk this often. Speaking of, March was ranting all of this to a bartender at the usual bar he went to. The bartender didn’t seem very interested in the story of how Healy was always advertising to the most annoying people in the city. March continued anyway.
Whilst drunkenly explaining his awful idea of making essentially rage-bait ads to get more customers, a younger man walked up behind him. He was almost the same height as March, slightly shorter, but more tan and muscular. He looked oddly familiar. He had dirty blonde hair that was wavy, and sharp blue eyes. He looked like March, he realized.
“Uncle Holland?” He raised an eyebrow. March often forgot his sister had too many kids. The whole family tree was weird anyway; why’s he always surprised?
“Jesus- Ryland? Is that you?” He tilted his head, inspecting him closely. Colt almost winced at the name. “You look so fuckin’ old. I thought you were like 19! Did you lose your glasses again, or did you switch to contacts?”
“No. It’s Colt. Colton. Whatever.” He shrugged.
“Oh! Stun man! Heyy favourite nephew, how are you?” He grinned, motioning for him to sit down. “Sit, sit, how’s life treating ya’? What’s got you here in California?”
“Filming a movie here. Wasn’t expecting to run into you.” He smiled awkwardly, taking the bar seat next to March.
“What movie? Action? Comedy? Hit me.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Don’t actually hit me, though.” He raised his fists, half-jokingly on guard. He looked at March weirdly.
"Doesn't matter. Do you know what happened to Ryland?” He asked, like he was genuinely confused.
“What happened to him?” His posture straightened. Ryland wasn’t usually a trouble-maker. Actually, Colt was usually the one getting suspended every other week. “Did he graduate with that uh… the fancy degree he wanted yet?”
“I mean, he did. A while ago.” He looked at him, bewildered. “He’s in space, man.”
“HE’S IN WHAT?!”
Colt had made them leave the bar early, basically explaining everything about the Hail Mary Mission, Ryland being sent up to space, while driving March back to his house. March was way too drunk to walk in a straight line, let alone drive. Drunk driving isn’t cool, kids.
“So, let me get this straight, Ryland was sent to space to save the sun?”
“Yeah, in short.”
“Christ. That kid was scared of elevators for the longest time.” March joked, trying to lighten the mood. His eyes were glossed over as he stared at the passing trees while they drove.
“It’s more than weird. He never even told me he stepped up.” Colt’s eyes remained forward, but they seemed more distant. Maybe sad.
“Mhm. That’s definitely weird.” March agreed, half listening. His head leaned against the side of the car now, half asleep already.
“Is anyone home other than Holly? I’m not sticking around for your hangover.”
“I dunno. Probably fuckin’ Healy.” He murmured, shifting in the passenger seat.
Colt pulled into the driveway of his house, ringing the doorbell. He waited for a few seconds before an older man- maybe in his 50’s opened the door. He was chubby, with brown hair that was slightly gray, as well as his beard. He had on what looked like reading glasses and had a small scar on his lower lip like it had been busted one too many times.
“Who the fuck has Holland brought home now?” He deadpanned, taking his glasses off to rub his temple.
“I'm Colt, his nephew. He’s uh… asleep. In his car. I didn’t want him to drive home and kill anyone.” Colt explained simply, motioning to the asleep March in the car. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Sorry about that.” He apologized briefly, pushing past Colt to walk over to March, slapping him on the shoulder to wake him up.
“Wake up, asshole. I told you to be back by 10.” He grunted. March nearly jumped out of his skin, giving a high-pitched scream for a moment. “Jesus CHRIST, HEALY!” He shook himself awake.
“Was that really necessary!?”
“Yes. Very. Get in the house.” “Alright, alright!” He sighed, rubbing his shoulder as he got out of the car, walking towards the door. “He’s the worst roommate-coworker ever.” He whispered to Colt, who was trying not to laugh.
“Want to say that again, March?”
“No.” He sighed. “Call me if you need anything, Colt. I’m always around. Usually. For the most part-” He was cut off by Healy dragging him in by the collar.
“Have a nice night.” He smiled and nodded before closing the door. His uncle was weirder than he remembered.