To You and Back

Chapter 13: After the Rain

Michael would have punched him again if another priest hadn't seen and come running over. In fact, he already had Peter by the collar of his coat, kneeling over the fallen man, cocking his arm when he was roughly grabbed from behind and hauled off. His mind was filled with rage, that his best friend would betray him like this, would take advantage of the brother he loved and protected his whole life.

Michael didn't know who it was that stopped him and wouldn't know for some time. When the red mist of fury lifted, he was sitting in the monsignor's office, still breathing hard like he'd ran a marathon, fists white-knuckled and shaking all over. He didn't hear the Monsignor's questions or berating; he didn't register leaving the office or leaving the building. He didn't snap out of it until stepping outside, and the cold rain beat on his feverish face.

But even that didn't temper him, and the rain might as well have evaporated into steam the moment it hit him, for all the cooling it did. He stood a moment, breathing hard, fists still clenched, letting it wash over him. Around him there was the gentle whooshing of rain on rooftops, and the occasional splash as a car went by, but inside was chaos.

Always before when he had questions, Michael would find himself on the steps of the church behind him. But tonight, there was no going back in there. Turning, he headed up the sidewalk. There was only one man who could answer his questions now.

***

Charlie woke suddenly to the sound of his ringing phone. Outside the bedroom window was sheer, flimsy curtains of rain, swaying with the wind. The deluge had passed, but it was still far from over. His phone continued to ring, a bright rectangle of light on the nightstand, its musical tone shrill in the silence. Turning over he reached for it, squinted at the screen, and answered.

"This better be important," he muttered sleepily.

"You're not home," came Peter's voice through the phone.

"I'm hanging up."

"Wait." A pause. "I thought I should give you some warning."

Charlie rolled over onto his side, facing towards the windows and closed his eyes, phone to his ear. "Warning about what?"

"I went to see Michael tonight. And I told him about us."

Charlie's eyes snapped open as his chest gave a flutter, the cold dread of foreboding creeping into his belly. "What does that mean? What about us?"

"Everything. Even...from back then."

Charlie swore violently as he shot up in bed. "Are you crazy?" he said loudly. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"He needed to know."

"No, he really didn't!"

Beside Charlie a figure in the bed stirred and sat up. "Is everything okay?" murmured Keenan.

Charlie shook his head distractedly, a deep frown on his brows as he flipped the covers back and swung his bare feet to the floor.

"Is that Keen?" asked Peter, forcing a playful tone.

"Shut up," Charlie snapped, getting up and walking out of the room. "For god sakes, Peter, what did you do?

"The truth shall set you free, and all that."

"Oh, for—They weren't just your secrets to tell, Peter!"

"I know. But—"

A beep interrupted, alerting Charlie to another call. He checked the phone and swore again. Putting it back to his ear, he said, "And that's Michael calling. I can't believe this is happening."