Coffee and Cigarettes

I don't remember sleeping that night. Or for the two or three nights after that, actually. Libby was staying over at my house, too upset over the news of her now-pregnant-with-an-AIDS-infected-devil-spawn mother to stay in her own house. She'd been staying in our guest room, only coming out to eat or piss.

All of us were really worried.

Bob had sort of adopted her as his third little sister and was probably worried the most. He brought her meals, he knocked on her door to see if she was still living, he brought air freshener in case her room started to smell moldy. Kind of like what he always did for me and Blair when we were sick.

Libby's mom called every single day to ask how her daughter was. She was obviously devastated that her daughter wouldn't even come back home, but Libby clearly didn't care. All she wanted was for her mom to be all healthy again and for that assfuck to be back in jail.

"Bob, calm down," I said as I saw him knocking on her door again. "She's fine. She just needs time to get over the shock."

He sighed. "I know. I'm just worried. The kid's been living in a box for almost a week. That can't be good for her."

"She's a bit traumatized right now," I reasoned. "Leave her alone for a bit."

He sighed again. "Alright. I'm going to band practice. Wanna come along?"

I shrugged. "Okay. Maybe I'll get Libby to come too, I know Mikey's been worried absolutely sick about her."

"Alright," Bob agreed, walking down the stairs.

I knocked gently on Libby's door. I heard sniffling. "Lib, can I come in?"

She weakly replied, "Okay."

I opened the door to see her lying face first into her pillow. "I wish I could just smother myself and die," she said, her voice muffled by an obvious obtrusion.

I walked over to her and patted her on the back. "It's going to be okay. We'll find a way to fix this."

She got up and faced me, her eyes bloodshot and her face pale. "How is it going to be okay? This Jon Bishops guy is going around and fucking up everyone's lives!"

"We'll find a way," I pressed. "Anyway, do you want to go see My Chem's band practice? Mikey really misses you and I think it'd be a good idea for you to get some fresh air."

She paused, but eventually nodded.

"Good," I smiled. "Now, go shower. You smell like Bob's socks."

She lanced her pillow at me and I scurried out of the room.

"Bob," I called. "Meet us at Gerard's house. Libby's taking a shower."

"Okay," he called back up and I went to go change.

Twenty minutes later, we were at the Way's house and Mikey had Libby engulfed in a huge hug and she collapsed into his arms and burst into tears. He carried her into his living room, all of us crowding around her and trying our best to comfort her and make her feel better, even though we all knew that there was nothing we could do.

"Hey," Mikey whispered into her ear. "I promise you, all of us will do everything we can to get that creep behind bars."

She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "How?"

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully. "But I promise, we'll find a way."

"That's what Morgan said," Libby sniffled. "But I don't see how it's possible..."

"Enough tears, sugar," Gerard said, taking command of the situation. "We'll head down to the police station tomorrow, give them the guy's description, tell them he's a rapist and bring in Morgan's sister as a witness, and they can do whatever the flying fuck they want with him. Okay?"

Libby stared at Gerard. No words, just nodding.

"Good," he said, a big grin placed on his mouth. "Now, let's get back to band practice, shall we? I vote we play You Don't Know What They Do To Mother Fuckers Like Jon Bishops In Prison."