Simple Plan Tour Bus

Toronto

Same Day

10 AM

Pat and Pierre sat outside the bus waiting for the others to join them. The singer sat with his cell phone clutched tight in his right hand.

“Any news on Jay?” Pat rolled his shoulders as he cast a gentle look his friend’s way.

Pierre shook his head, just staring at the ground. Pat went to say something else but then the vampire’s head jerked up and he stared hard at his friend. “You know, Mom and Dad said that the letter didn’t mention my father’s name...so...either they didn’t read the letter all the way through...or something in it changed.”

Pat didn’t even blink at the change in direction; he just nodded. “You said you dreamed of your mother. These things do happen. Perhaps, she really did appear and placed an updated message in place of the original. Or, perhaps the letter she left your parents was not the one she really meant to leave for you...because perhaps the information in it was not meant for human eyes.”

Pierre raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d say that was impossible...but...Hell...a lot of impossible things have already happened...so yeah...I’m not gonna bother.”

His friend chuckled. “Wise.”

“Nah, just logical.”

They fell quiet watching the door to the bus.

Pat shifted on the grassy verge and rubbed at his left calf. “Talking of impossible things...anymore news about Jay?”

Pierre shot a hard look at his friend. “You already asked me that.” His tone suggested that the subject be dropped, but Pat remembered what Johnny had told him and he breathed deeply, rubbing at his temples.

“There’s no cure, right?”

Pierre growled, bristling a little. “No. If there were, I’d pay for it.”

Pat continued to rub at his temples. “Cures do cost...a lot...they...sometimes...cost as much as a life...” He was beginning to ramble.

The singer looked at him suddenly confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It would cost...a cure...y’know...to cure Jay...of cancer.”

Pierre’s gaze focused tightly on the Were’s face. “Is there something you know?”

Pat stared hard at a blade of grass. “Nah...nah...you’d never go for it...I mean...it’d cost Jay a lot...and you too...and your Mom and Dad...it’d cost...”

Pierre felt a snarl building up inside him. He grabbed the front of Pat’s Role Model T-shirt and pulled him around to face him. “Tell. Me. Right now.” His voice shifted, dangerously low.

Pat lifted his eyes to his friend’s and saw that they were starting to glow. He shook his head hard. “No...Pierre...it...it’d cost too much.”

“Just tell me.” Pierre rasped out harshly. Pat bit his bottom lip hard. Pierre shook him. “Tell me, Pat...god damn it, you dog...fucking tell me.”

Vaguely, Pat wondered how none of the others seemed to realise this was happening right outside the bus, whilst they were still obviously stuffing around. The atmosphere between and around the two of them had become so thick he almost thought it was a tangible object he could reach out and touch.

Pierre snarled and shoved at him angrily. “Tell me, Pat. Please...I’d try anything to stop all this shit Jay’s going through.”

Pat trembled, wishing now that he had kept his mouth shut. “You can’t be his saviour, Pierre...”

“Just tell me, damn it.”

He relented seeing the despair in Pierre’s deep brown eyes. “Ah...P...Pierre, you’d have to turn him.”

The colour drained from the vampire’s face and he fell back onto the grass and stared up at the clouds. “Hell...”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Pierre groaned pressing the back of his hand against his eyes. “Fuck...”

“Pretty much...” Pat watched him for a long moment. “So, yeah...”

Pierre took several deep breaths then sat up, jumped to his feet and strode toward the bus, his phone clutched close his chest. Obviously, their conversation was over.

Sighing, Pat got up and followed him back on board the bus. It was time to hurry the rest of the band up and get to their first public appearance in Toronto. He just hoped Pierre would forget about the conversation they had just had. The whole idea of turning Jay into a vampire to cure his cancer...not a good one at all, and better left buried under the ground. Completely buried.

The Palladium Arena

Noon

Pierre stood in the middle of the stage staring out at the vast arena. His white T-shirt clung to his torso, slightly see-through from the sweat patches that had formed at his back and his armpits. He gripped his microphone in his left hand absently rubbing his thumb against the head of it.

Pat walked up next to him clutching two steaming Styrofoam mugs of coffee. “Here, bud...” He spoke softly; there was still tension between them from earlier however, the Werewolf sensed that the vampire wouldn’t speak of the words that had passed between them. Pierre’s thoughts were elsewhere at present. Still Pat wasn’t going to tempt fate.

Pierre turned his head slightly, smiling faintly. “Hey, thanks.” He took a cup and breathed in deeply, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans filling his nostrils. “Hmmm...just the ticket.”

Pat nodded gazing into his own cup. “Uh...Pierre...”

“Yeah?” Pierre returned his attention to the huge arena.

His friend shifted on his feet, shoes rustling against the solid stage floor. “Just...um...let me know if you need to feed.”

The singer glanced sideways at his friend. “You don’t mind me feeding from you?”

Pat shrugged. “Not really.”

Pierre nodded then stared back out again then a thought came to him and he smirked a little. “Does Mare know you’re a Werewolf?”

“Yeah, actually she does.” There was a hint of laughter in Pat’s voice.

Pierre looked at him. “What’s funny?”

Pat chuckled. “The Bramley’s are another family...”

Pierre blinked. “Damn...so...uh...”

“She’s a Were. So, she knows, of course.” He patted his friend shoulder gently. “I know, a shocker, right? I’d be so lucky to find the right woman for me.”

“Who would’ve guessed,” Pierre mumbled.

Pat shoved at his shoulder lightly. “Perk up, P.”

“What? Why? Because you have a woman who’s the same as you? I’m not sure if that’s a bonus. I like Lachelle the way she is, thanks.”

Pat smiled. “Good to hear.”

Pierre breathed slowly then sipped at his coffee.

After several long moments, he glanced back over his shoulder, ears pricking. “David’s coming.”

His friend also looked back and smirked. “He’s still coming down the back corridor...I bet he gets lost before he finds the backstage door.”

“Yeah...remember when I did that, on our first arena tour?”

Pat snorted, “I don’t think it counts since we did it deliberately and filmed it.”

“Hah, you just don’t want to admit that you got lost.”

“Uh, I can’t get lost, Pierre. My sense of smell is too good for that.”

Pierre snorted. “Yeah, well mine rivals it now.”

“True. But you’re just a vamp. Mine is still better than yours.”

“Jeeze, Patrick, I didn’t realise it was a competition.”

“Better a friendly comp than a full blown war...”

Pierre’s eyebrows lifted.

Pat met his quizzical gaze with a serious one of his own. “When I was 118...many thousands of Werewolves were tortured and killed by your kind...but, my family...we escaped to Montreal.” He bit his bottom lip and looked away. “Johnny’s family weren’t so lucky...and Johnny...well we know where he ended up.” Pat shook his head and mussed his hair. “Anyway...”

The backstage door creaked open and rushing footsteps approached them from behind. Pierre gasped as David suddenly jumped on his back, wrapping long skinny arms around his shoulders.

“Woo! Whatcha guys doing?”

Pat laughed, rolling his eyes. Pierre swung around and gently dumped the bassist on the stage, carefully balancing his coffee in one hand and holding his microphone out in the other.

“Just admiring the view from here, David.”

David pouted up at the singer. “What’d you throw me down for?”

“You’re heavy.”

The bassist pouted, then he turned to Pat, who was just watching them with a smirk on his lips. “What’re you smirking at, Patrick?”

“You. You look ridiculous.” Pat snorted, but then a frown passed across his face and he walked away.

Pierre lifted his eyebrows but before he could call out to ask his friend what was up, David tapped him on the shoulder and nodded to his microphone. “We should start sound check.”

“Huh?”

“Chuck said to start, the other’s will be here soon.”

“Oh.” Pierre lifted the arm holding the mic and wiped it across the back of his mouth. “Right. Um...sure.”

He turned to walk toward the smaller sound desk; a technician was lounging behind it. He straightened as the singer approached. Pierre paused, glancing back over toward Pat; his friend was crouched at the edge of the stage forehead resting in his hands, body held tensely.

Pierre shook his head and looked back at the tech. “Hey, man. I need to check my levels now.”

The technician nodded and flicked a couple of switches. Pierre tapped the head of his microphone and spoke into it gruffly focusing all his attention on the instrument. Whatever was causing his friend anxiety would just have to wait.

So, as he began concentrating on his levels and the others came in beginning to set up, none of them noticed as Pat slipped away, then vanished from the arena.

Furniture Specialists Lycan Ltd

TO Branch

1 PM

Pat clutched his empty Styrofoam cup close to his chest as he materialised in the small downtown office his father worked whenever he was in Toronto. Allan Cunningham sat at a large oak desk the sleeves of his shirt rolled up.

Sweat beaded at his forehead and he was leaning forward speaking to someone who was sitting on the floor. “Are you sure he won’t find you here?”

“I-I’m not sure...but...I had to find somewhere to clear my mind...I...I’m sorry, Alpha...I just...”

Pat stepped closer and blinked in surprise when he saw Johnny crouched close to one of the leather chairs, gripping the arm tightly. “Christ?”

The smaller male didn’t respond; he just stared at Pat with a haunted look in his deep brown eyes.

Pat frowned and tossed his empty cup in a wastebasket before walking forward and sinking down next to him. “Seward?”

Johnny swallowed hard; there was real terror written all over his face.

“Buddy...” Pat rubbed at his nose then looked at his father. “Dad?”

Alpha shook his head slowly. “Johnny was here when I got in this morning...sometime around eight...”

Pat glanced at the younger male. “What’s going on?”

Johnny trembled, shaking his head. His hand clutched at the chair as if it were a lifeline. Then he dropped his arm and wrapped both around his torso, slowly beginning to rock, mumbling almost incoherently.

Pat grimaced, looking up at Alpha. What’s the betting Shadows has done something to him?

“No.”

They both looked at the younger Were.

“No?”

Johnny gritted out painfully, “He has done nothing to me...I...he...dammit. I have to do something.”

“What is that?” Alpha leaned forward against his desk, dark eyes narrowed questioningly.

The younger Were shook his head some more. “I...I can’t...” He bit at his bottom lip so hard it began to bleed.

Pat groaned. “Look, I doubt Matthew will track you down...or be able to hear our conversation...so tell us, Johnny...maybe we can figure something out.”

Johnny glowered at Pat. “This is not your problem. You should just worry about keeping Pierre away from my master.”

Pat bristled, a savage growl building deep in his throat, long gone memories flooding furiously into his mind. “The fuck it’s not my problem. My sister married your uncle. Those bastards killed him...killed all of them. You think I don’t have something against Shadows, and Brian? You think this is not my problem? Not my Dad’s problem?”

Johnny let his breath out harshly. “Ah, fuck...I keep forgetting that your sister was in Huntington during the Slaughter Years...” Those years were when Johnny was barely out of childhood, when the master vampire captured him. Therefore he hadn’t really known the Were who had married into his clan.

“Yeah, so, what’s the deal, Jonathan?” Alpha spoke up his voice now strained tight.

Johnny lay back on the floor and stared up at them both. “Pierre’s mother...Serena.” He hesitated before going on. “She was in Montreal City...and I warned her off...told her to get as far away as possible.”

Pat settled down on the floor, tilting his head to the side. “That was good of you...”

Johnny laughed bitterly. “She’s my best friend...but...I haven’t done right by her...not this time.”

“How do you mean? She’s safe now, right? I mean, Matt can’t know?”

The younger Were clenched his jaw hard. “He knows. He always knows.” He balled his left hand into a fist, banging it against his knee. “He’ll know about this conversation.” Johnny’s voice cracked. “He’llkill me.”

Alpha let out a snort. “Not likely, son. He can’t kill you.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Of course he can. I belong to him. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.”

The elder male sighed, “No. He cannot kill you...you are...” He paused. Pat and Johnny both gave him weird looks.

“Johnny’s what, Dad?”

“Yeah, Alpha. I’m what?”

“Johnny, you’re a Halfling...”

“Oh, that. Right, so what are you saying? That you believe all that shit about how Halfling Were’s are immortal? Come on, Alpha. You know that’s just myth...fiction. It isn’t true.”

Alpha growled defensively but then relented. “No. I meant...I think he cares for you...I mean he could’ve killed you for so many things in the last few decades. But, you’re still here.” He hunched his shoulders and stared hard at Johnny. “What does that tell you?”

Johnny chuckled sourly. “That this was the first time I ever deliberately did anything to fuck with my master’s plans.”

Alpha stretched and leaned back against his chair. “I see. Well, you’re in a right pickle, then. What...what does Matthew want you to do?”

“He said...he said if I wanted to stay alive...I had to...” Johnny stopped and stared down at the floor. “I have to...find Serena...and...” He stopped again, almost choking on his words. “Damn it...I don’t want to betray her...”

The hair on the back of Pat’s neck bristled. He leaned forward, bracing a hand against the floor. “Betray her, how?”

Johnny inhaled roughly, smearing a hand over his eyes. “I have to find her...god damn...it’ll be like leading a lamb to the slaughter. She fucking trusts me, Pat.”

Pat rubbed at his cheek. “Well, maybe you should just...tell him you couldn’t find her.”

“Or,” Alpha murmured, “We could find a safe house for her?”

Johnny’s head shot up and he snarled, “No. I won’t have you risking your neck over this.”

“She’s Pierre’s mother. Maybe...maybe we should bring him into this?”

“Pierre?” The younger Were frowned, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“I doubt wisdom has anything to do with it. But, blood...kin...family...has a lot more to do with it.”

“Family...” Johnny whispered, voice hoarse.

Pat clapped a hand to his shoulder squeezing hard. “Yeah, family. You’re my family...my sister...”

“I know, Pat...I know...” He groaned. “I don’t know...about Pierre, I mean.” He sighed heavily as if it were all too much to handle. “Fuck. This is just...”

“Think about it.” Pat squeezed his shoulder again. “We’ll not push you over this. Bad enough Matthew’s giving you shit.”

Johnny gave a wry grin. “I appreciate that, Pat.” He closed his eyes then opened them again. “I...wanted to find her at any rate...even if it were just to see her one last time. I have a feeling she’s somewhere in Toronto. It’s a big city though. So, the guys won’t find her...unless she’s not careful.”

Alpha folded his arms. “We’ll find her...if you want us to.”

Johnny sat up shaking his head. “No. I’ll look for her. Alone. I know she knows you...but it’ll be better this way.”

“Of course.” Alpha stood and came around the desk. “Look, kid. You can hang around here for as long as you need. And I’ll be in town for the whole of this week.”

Johnny nodded his thanks.

Pat grinned. “I’ll be around as well. But, you already knew that, right?”

“Yeah. SP have a gig tonight, right?”

“Yeah, you should come along. Have some fun.”

Johnny straightened his clothes as he pushed up off the floor. “Yeah, y’know. I might just do that. Thanks, dude.”

“Welcome.” Pat raked his fingers through his hair. “Right. I’d better get back to the Palladium...the guys’ll be through sound check.” He nodded to his father; Alpha nodded back. Then Pat vanished without another word.

Johnny watched him go then nodded to the elder male. “Thanks for being here, Alpha...”

“Always, kid. You take care now.”

Johnny inclined his head slightly, then faded from the office a sad smile the last thing the elder Werewolf saw.

Notes