~Part 2~

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The airport was loud and crazy and full of people yelling in Italian. Frank pretty much just grabbed on to the back of Brian's jacket and held on for dear life, until he found himself being herded towards a dude in sunglasses who was holding a sign that said, 'M. Way.'

"Uh," said Mikey when they got close enough. "That's me, I guess."

The dude – he wasn't a Suit, which Frank was kind of surprised by; somehow in Frank's head all Vatican employees looked like they'd jumped out of the Matrix - kind of looked Mikey up and down, then nodded and walked off quickly in the opposite direction.

"Come on," Brian urged, jogging Frank's elbow. "He's our ride."

Outside the airport was another dude in sunglasses, and two shiny black cars, the kind Frank had only ever ridden in for funerals. He wasn't that crazy about getting in, especially when he realized they wouldn't all fit into the same one.

"I thought we agreed to stay together no matter what," Bob hissed. Frank nodded hard.

"You want to sit on my lap, Bryar, be my guest," said Brian. "You ride with Ray and Mikey, okay? Frank's with me."

Bob looked unsure, but he nodded. Over his shoulder, Frank could see Ray's hand low down on Mikey's back, guiding him towards the car.

"I feel like I'm in a dream," Brian confided to Frank when they were pulling out of the airport.

"Don't tell me that, dude," Frank said. "You're supposed to be the one who knows what he's doing."

Brian kind of laughed. "Right," he said quietly. He heaved his bag onto his lap and started rifling through it, probably checking he had all their passports for the ninetieth time since they got off the plane. "Do you know if there's like, another border control at the Vatican? It's technically its own country, right?"

"I don't know," Frank shrugged. "I mean, it is, I think, but I don't know about passports and stuff."

"I guess we'll find out when we get there." Brian moved more shit around in his bag and frowned. "Shit, I forgot to buy an adapter. Now we can't charge our phones."

"So we'll buy one," Frank told him. "Brian, we're in Rome. It's not exactly a backwater."

Brian kind of hesitated, then deflated a little. He worried the strap of his bag in his hands. "I just wish I could do something," he said. "I feel like there's nothing I can do for you."

"Don't worry about me," Frank flapped his hand at Brian. "Worry about Mikey."

"I worry about all of you," said Brian. He sat back in his seat and looked out of the window.

The ride to Vatican City was completely uneventful, although Frank was absolutely incapable of stopping himself turning around every two seconds to make sure the other car was still behind them. He caught Brian doing it a bunch of times, too. When they finally arrived, they were met by a small, bespectacled man in neat robes who introduced himself as Cardinal Pierce's assistant. He led them down a maze of hallways, then opened a door which led to what could easily have been a suite in a nice hotel. Clearly there was no expense being spared at the Vatican, Frank thought.

"We hope you will find these rooms comfortable," the assistant said. "You must be tired from your journey. You will rest tonight. The Cardinal wishes to meet with you first thing after Mass tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow?" Brian shook his head. "The guy just dragged us halfway across the world with no explanation and he thinks we're going to wait until tomorrow? We want to see him now."

The assistant turned his cool, even gaze on Brian. "You are tired from your journey," he said firmly. "Food will be brought shortly. You will meet with the Cardinal in the morning."

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