Previously...
We decide to hit the pub instead. Settled in at Rob Roy's, I order us four pints. Maggie corrects me; only three please. The beer is good, the atmosphere is cozy, and we feel good about the win.
Something's troubling me, though. By the time we part and I start walking home my mood has darkened. I'm distracted and don't notice how strange it is that I have an apartment in the very town we came to today for the mission.
As I enter the Brownstone and head up the stairs to apartment 23, I realize what's bugging me. It's Max. The way he handles himself, the way he confronted the demon, the way he went to work on the zombies, guns blazing. I'll never be like Max. No matter how many missions they let me tag along on, I'll just never really be like him.
I'm too nervous, I'm not in good enough shape. I always doubt what I'm saying. I don't know enough, I'm not that cool under pressure.
I turn on the TV, start cooking up a can of noodles. I feel edgy, unsettled. I almost feel mad at Max. Like he's a cocky show-off, like he thinks he's so much better. Truth is he wouldn't even be that special without Maggie and Angst. I know that I'm being pathetic, and that just makes me feel worse.
There's a movie on the TV I've seen before but I can't remember the name or the plot.
A knock at the door. As I open it I realize I'm in a motel room. The smell of noodles is coming from a bag of take-out on the bed.
It's Angst and Maggie. Angst says, "The police scanner picked up chatter - sounds like there's still something weird back at the cemetery."
Mags smiles. "Gear up, Max. We must have missed one."
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