They arrived in Chicago the next morning; one day in advance of the final show of the tour.
"Day off!" Cortez crowed the next morning, coming into the lounge with no shirt on and his jeans so low on his hips Mikey thought they must have been staying up purely through force of will. He was pretty hot. Frank usually had good taste. "You guys have plans?"
"We're going to Mass," Gerard said stiffly, gathering some books together and stuffing them into his bag. "And then to see Bob's parents."
"Rock and roll," Cortez smirked, and Mikey immediately decided that Frank had terrible taste and was no longer allowed to choose his own hook-ups. Then his phone rang; he looked at the display. It was Pete. Mikey answered, "Hey, everything okay?"
"Well, nobody tried to shoot me last night, so I'd say I'm doing better than you."
Mikey rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. God."
"Can you guys come to my bus? I wanted to ask you something."
Mikey told Brian, who rounded up Bob, Ray and Frank from wherever they'd gotten too, and they all trooped over to Pete's bus together.
"Hey," said Pete when they got inside. Patrick, Joe and Andy were sitting there with him, but the bus was empty otherwise. "So, this thing isn't over, right? I mean, it doesn't feel over. There's kids with guns and shady security guys and shit."
"It's not over," Brian agreed.
Pete nodded, then looked at Joe, who said, "So what happens now? I mean, are you guys, like, do you have someplace to stay?"
Bob raised his hand halfway and said, "My folks are putting us up."
Andy raised his eyebrows. "All six of you? What are you gonna tell them?"
"I don't know," Bob said uncomfortably. "I didn't work it out yet."
"Okay," Pete nodded, then got up and came over to Mikey. He touched Mikey's arm and said quietly, "Because the thing is, I'm not totally crazy about you not being around. I like knowing that you're here, in case something happens."
"We're not leaving you," Mikey said, trying to sound reassuring. "We'll be here in the city. You can call us any time."
Pete shook his head. "I have a house. I mean, I won't be there, I don't think? Because it's kind of big and empty, and I don't really live there, I just thought that I should buy one or something -"
"He's staying with me," Patrick interrupted him, smiling a little when Pete rolled his eyes. "What? Dude, if you hadn't asked I was going to force you anyway."
Pete rolled his eyes again and went on, "The point is, you could stay there. And then I would know where you are. And it's close to Patrick's. And you'd be in my house. Does that even make any sense?"
Mikey nodded. "Sure."
"Okay," Pete smiled, wide and relieved. "And you're coming to the show tomorrow night?"
"Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that," Gerard said, perching on the seat next to Patrick. "The thing is, that we don't really know what's coming next. Obviously there's something bigger than the kids at work here, and considering the attacks you were having after the shows before, maybe it would be best if you-"
"No," Pete said firmly, shaking his head. "We're not canceling the show."
"I know it sucks," Brian put in, "But we just want to keep you out of danger."
Joe scrunched his mouth up. "Pete, if it's the shows that are making you sick, then-"
"It wasn't the shows! It was that ball thing. Right?" Pete turned to Mikey, as if he was some kind of expert and should know what the fuck to say.
"That was definitely part of it," Mikey hedged. "But like Gee says, we don't know for sure."
"I'm not canceling a show for 'not sure'," Pete argued. "It's a sold out show. We can't cancel on ten thousand kids, they'll be so bummed. And what would we even tell anyone? We have to cancel in case someone tries to suck out my soul?"
Patrick cleared his throat. "Pete, if something happened to you because we didn't cancel-"
"Nothing's going to happen!" Pete insisted. "You'll be there, and Mikey and these guys, and we have security!"
"Like the security who gave Mark a gun?" Ray said quietly. "That kind of security?"
Pete stared at him a little wildly, then kind of deflated and went to sit down by Patrick. "We can increase our own security, then," he said, looking at Patrick as if it was up to him. "We'll say a venue guy went crazy, or something, get the label to find some more guys, frisk everybody twice, metal detectors, whatever." Pete touched Patrick's arm. "It's our homecoming show, Patrick. Please."
Patrick held Pete's eyes for a long moment, frowning deeply. Mikey felt like everyone was holding their breath until he said, "We're not going to cancel."
"Fine," said Brian, in that voice that meant he really wanted to kill you for your own good. "But you better have security so good your own mother can't get backstage, okay?"
