And really, John reflected, it wasn't his business what Bobby did with anyone's money, whether it was his folks or it came in the form of free rent. What was a little largesse between buddies? They were both on their own now, figuratively speaking.
Still, John let go of the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding when Bobby said thanks, and smiled, and tucked the napkin away.
"Well," he started, crossing to the fridge and throwing Bobby a look over his shoulder as he got out two beers - just in case Bobby finished his first and wanted a second, settling it down on the kitchen counter at an appropriately neutral distance from both of them. He opened his own and chugged some, glad for the time to settle his thoughts. "Back in New York, when I was just grumpy mutant T.A. of the year 2013-2014,-" that meaning, Pyro was absent from the equation, "-the Y in downtown Manhattan asked me to come down and talk to some kids who'd run away or got kicked out when their powers manifested. They weren't exactly the type to end up at Westchester, you know? Didn't trust people enough. But I got four of them to think about it, and three of them to go. One of them, Betsy, told Ms Munroe about this cranky but supportive pyrokinetic named John who helped her out, and I got asked to do a return visit." There was a definite sense of pride - and affection, however cranky - when talking about the kids he took care of back in his Columbia days. And he had been proud of them, the mutant ones and the normals - if the normals could use some smacking upside the head, to use a phrase. "I said no. I mean, I knew you wouldn't be there, but it still felt...wrong."
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Still, John let go of the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding when Bobby said thanks, and smiled, and tucked the napkin away.
"Well," he started, crossing to the fridge and throwing Bobby a look over his shoulder as he got out two beers - just in case Bobby finished his first and wanted a second, settling it down on the kitchen counter at an appropriately neutral distance from both of them. He opened his own and chugged some, glad for the time to settle his thoughts. "Back in New York, when I was just grumpy mutant T.A. of the year 2013-2014,-" that meaning, Pyro was absent from the equation, "-the Y in downtown Manhattan asked me to come down and talk to some kids who'd run away or got kicked out when their powers manifested. They weren't exactly the type to end up at Westchester, you know? Didn't trust people enough. But I got four of them to think about it, and three of them to go. One of them, Betsy, told Ms Munroe about this cranky but supportive pyrokinetic named John who helped her out, and I got asked to do a return visit." There was a definite sense of pride - and affection, however cranky - when talking about the kids he took care of back in his Columbia days. And he had been proud of them, the mutant ones and the normals - if the normals could use some smacking upside the head, to use a phrase. "I said no. I mean, I knew you wouldn't be there, but it still felt...wrong."