Brian twitched and snapped his head. He coulda sworn... Oh duh! Thought-speak, ya moron!!! "I think they're here, uh..." Brian faltered. Calling him 'sir' just didn't seem right, even if it was second-nature for Brian. "Yeah, I think I heard them coming."
Ms. Wickersham started fumbling with the phone, but before she finished getting her fingers to cooperate long enough to hit 911, she froze.
"What about Brian? Where's my boy. Is he...? Oh please, tell me he's alright!" She began crying involuntarily, out of fear of her unknown 'guest', out of ever-increasing worry for her son, and perhaps the slightest touch of anger as well. It had been a very long night, and this mysterious meeting of sorts was not helping in the least. She didn't come out from the back of the kitchen, though she subconsciously lowered the soapy stock-pot to her side.