After the next show, Gerard came with Mikey to see Pete for himself.
"How long has this been going on?" he asked. "This post-show exhaustion."
"About a month," Pete winced when Gerard set his fingers against his jaw and tilted his face up into the light. "Why, is that a thing? A God thing?"
Gerard shook his head, frowning distractedly. "Not that I know of."
Mikey really thought that it would be better if they just told Pete who they really were. This way Gerard couldn't take pictures or a statement or any of the stuff he needed for his reports – although, probably tiredness wasn't something that photographed well. And Pete really did just look tired – it wasn't a normal tired, sure, he kind of looked like those soldiers in that episode of the X-Files where they had their sleep glands removed or whatever it was, but still. He wasn't speaking in tongues or spontaneously bursting into flame. It was definitely one of their less dramatic cases, so far.
Gerard let Pete put his head down. "And you're feeling okay otherwise?"
Pete nodded, wincing when he swallowed. Mikey saw a bottle of water on the side and passed it over. "Thanks," said Pete, popping it open. He drank about half of it in three big swallows, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.
Mikey suddenly had a thought. "The other guys in your band aren't suffering like this, are they?" Pete shook his head. "And what about your openers?"
Pete frowned. "They're fine as far as I know. I think it's just me. Hey," he said, leaning into Mikey's side a little bit. "Can I ask you something that might sound stupid?"
"Sure."
Pete hesitated, then said, "Could I be possessed by a demon?"
Mikey blinked and looked at Gerard, who just took his rosary out of his pocket and pressed the crucifix to Pete's forehead.
Pete looked confused. Gerard smiled, took the rosary back, and said, "Nope."
Pete let out a huge breath, like he'd actually been worried about it. "I know it sounds dumb," he said apologetically. "I just watch too many movies, that's all."
"It's not as dumb as you might think," Mikey told him, wishing that wasn't the case.
The door to the dressing room opened and Patrick came in. "Hey," he said, coming over to Pete. "Everything okay?"
"Gerard says I'm not possessed by a demon," Pete reported, sitting up.
Patrick stared at Gerard. "What? Did you tell him that was a possibility?"
"No," said Gerard, confused. "He just asked."
"Right," Patrick said heatedly. "And I suppose you can cure, him, right? Is that it? And what do you want in return?"
"Hey," Mikey stood up and moved towards Patrick, who was standing a little too close to Gerard for Mikey's liking. "Take it easy, man, he's just trying to help."
"It was my idea, Patrick," Pete insisted.
Patrick glared at Gerard some more, but eventually got a hold of himself and said, "Can you please leave? I need to speak to Pete."
"Patrick," Gerard tried, but the giant security guard was already looking impatient by the door, so Mikey grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away, throwing a last glance at Pete over his shoulder as they left.