Look again, Tommy. It wasn't just a different month. It wasn't just time passed. It was that the apartment looked different. The television wasn't David's. There were no computers around. That wasn't the couch that Tommy had crashed on before. There was a lot of 'this isn't David's'. There was a lot of signs that things had changed.

Which didn't mean he didn't get a response. It was just that when it came, it was from behind Tommy, out of the front door. And there stood David, standing a bit taller, looking a bit more confident, but touched with relief. And in strange new clothes. White pants, a yellow coat, and a bag with a funky version of an x with a circle inside of it over his chest. And beside him... Nightcrawler. Not to mention the smell of brimstone in the air, implying a recent teleportation.

"Tommy, is that you? You should, uh, come out of there."