Unholyverse

~Part 23~

Pete came to see them the next day. "Hi," he said.

The sun was shining. Mikey squinted against it and leaned against the door frame.

Pete moved his hands around awkwardly. "I guess...can I come in?"

Mikey wanted to say no. The guys were inside, and Mikey didn't want anyone to see them, see how their faces looked. It was private, but this was Pete's own house, so he just shrugged.

"I don't actually want to come in," Pete admitted. He put his hands in his pockets, then took them out, then stuffed them back in again. "I don't know, I just felt like I should offer."

Mikey didn't know what to say. He folded his arms and shrugged again.

Pete's face crumpled a little, and he looked down at the ground before saying in a rush, "I'm so sorry, Mikey, I mean, he saved my life, and I'm so grateful, but I would never want this, you know? You know that, right? If I could take it back-"

"Don't," Mikey cut him off. "Don't say that. He'd hate that."

"But I'm just in a band," Pete said desperately.

"All the fans," Mikey remembered suddenly. "Are they all right?"

"Yeah," Pete said, smiling and then not, like he thought Mikey would be offended, like it wasn't allowed. "Yeah, they're all fine. He saved them. You saved them."

Mikey didn't know what to say. He would give every one of their lives to have Gerard back. He knew it was terrible. He knew Gerard would think it was terrible. It was still how he felt.

"They made us sign things," said Pete. "Those creeps in the suits."

Mikey nodded slowly. "They do that."

"And they did something." Pete made an illustrative gesture with his hands. "They made it so people wouldn't remember. I don't know."

Mikey didn't know that was something they could do. He shrugged.

Pete watched him miserably for a while. "You know you can stay here as long as you want, right? And anything you need, plane tickets, whatever, please let me take care of that for you. Funeral expenses-"

"They took his body away."

Pete blinked. "Who did?"

"The Church." Mikey took his glasses off. "The creeps in the suits." There was a smudge on one of the lenses. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and used it to polish the mark off. "I guess you were still passed out for that part."

When he put them back on, Pete was just looking at him, his hands hanging loose by his sides. "I just wish I could do something."

Mikey nodded slowly. "I know."

Pete watched him sadly for another moment, then nodded and turned to go. He walked a few paces, then turned back. "I wish," he said. "I wish I had met you at a different time, Mikey Way."

"Me too," said Mikey, and went back inside.

"Craig called earlier," Brian said when Mikey had settled back onto the couch. "He, um. Well, he said that there's a job for us. I mean, if we want it."

Frank stirred next to Mikey. "What kind of job?"

Brian hesitated, looking at Mikey, then said, "I mean, if we wanted to...to keep doing this kind of stuff. If – if we wanted to carry on."

"Without him?" said Frank in a voice so small Mikey could barely hear him.

Brian heard, though, because he flushed and looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry, I – I shouldn't have said anything. I just thought, I don't know," he wrung his hands, then folded his arms, shoulders hunched. "I shouldn't have said anything. Forget it."