~Part 19~

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There was a van to take them to Pete's place, and after they'd dumped their stuff (and marveled at the fact that it was a house, that it had stairs and bedrooms and more than one bathroom and that it was theirs, sort of, that they didn't have to sleep on the floor or tiptoe around anyone else) they headed out to Mass.

Mikey was actually half expecting Frank to pass on it, but he came along and sat there with his arms folded, looking pissed off and refusing to close his eyes or bow his head for prayers, just like he always did. Mikey wasn't big on prayers either, but it was nice to sit quietly and just be alone with his thoughts for a few minutes. He didn't have to listen to what the priest was saying; he let himself think about Pete, about the case, about how scared Danny and Mark must have been and where they were, if they were okay.

The only time he really paid attention was when they took Communion. At first Mikey had just gone along with it to make Gerard happy, but now he kind of liked it; plus it seemed like he deserved to receive the Host considering he was busting his ass on the Host's behalf every day. Confession was another story, though. Gerard went whenever they passed a church, it felt like, but Mikey didn't believe that telling a priest you were sorry when you weren't would really win you any points, and he also didn't see how saying prayers to God could make up for being an asshole to someone here on Earth. Unless maybe God was going to cut the person you sinned against a little slack in their day-to-day life, or something.

After church they went over to Bob's parents' house.

"Who are we again?" Gerard wanted to know, sliding his collar off and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. "What are we all doing here?"

"We're Bob's friends and colleagues and we're on a road trip," Brian recited, flattening his hair down with one hand. "At no point is anyone to mention anything about fighting evil or being unemployed, all right?"

"They'd probably be okay with the fighting evil part," Bob said, and then a blonde woman opened the door and went, "Robert!" and hugged Bob so hard he practically came off the floor.

It was kind of weird to watch Bob with his parents. Bob was one of those people that Mikey thought of as just being Bob, like he'd sprung fully-formed from a rock, or something. It was strange – in a nice way - to watch him hug his Mom over and over, and make faces when his Dad told him he ought to cut his hair. It made Mikey miss his own parents so bad his stomach hurt, though.

"Jesus Christ, I miss my Mom," Frank muttered in Mikey's ear. Mikey bumped his elbow.

"So how long are you boys staying in town?" Mrs. Bryar asked, while she helped Mikey to his umpteenth serving of lunch.

"We're not exactly sure," Bob said after exchanging a glance with Brian. "I mean, we're helping a friend out with some stuff, and I'm not sure how long it'll take."

Mr. Bryar looked interested. "What kind of stuff? Music stuff?"

Bob hastily shoved a potato in his mouth and made a non-committal face.

"We always hoped he'd go back to that," Mr. Bryar told Ray. "He went to school for it, you know."

"No kidding," Ray said seriously. Bob rolled his eyes.

"He's so talented," Mrs. Bryar chimed in, wiping her hands on a dishtowel before sitting back down next to Bob. "But then he decided he wanted to draw pictures on people for a living instead."

Frank speared a green bean with his fork. "With all due respect, Ma'am, he's talented at that too."

"I can see you think so," Mrs. Bryar looked pointedly at Frank's hands. "Are they all my son's work?"

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