He emerged into a long aisle. It was thickly carpetted in crimson, and there were ranks of gleaming, pale wood pews on each side. William stood, blinking, eyes ticking off the stained glass windows that lined the walls, flicking over the gleaming alter with it's simple white cloth, and coming to rest on the large, plain wooden cross on the wall behind the speaker's podium. He found himself taking a deep breath, feeling as if he could draw in the hush.

At first he thought that Mona had been wrong, and the church was empty. Then he spotted a bright gleam near the front. He hadn't seen him because Chase was bent low in the pew, hands folded on the back of the seat before him, forehead resting on his hands. The red rinse had washed out of his hair some time ago, but the light slanting through the stained glass beside him almost tinted it strawberry again, and gave his white jeans and shirt a faint rose hue.

William made his way down the aisle, then sidled into Chase's pew, moving down till he was beside the younger man. Chase didn't look up, didn't move at all. William just stood, feeling awkward, not knowing what to say. He was still worried. Perhaps there had been injuries that Mona hadn't seen. Bruises sometimes took a little while to form. He desperately wanted to reach out and tip Chase's face up, to search those beloved features and reassure himself of Chase's safety. But there was something so still about the boy that he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he sat near Chase, and waited.

After a moment, still not moving, Chase said, "How did you know?"

"I wasn't sure," said William. "Mona called me. She's worried about you."

"She would be. I should have told her where I was going. I'm a..." He suddenly caught his breath in something close to a hiccup. "I'm a bad boy." He paused, and his voice was almost plaintive. "Am I a bad boy, Will?"

Now William did touch him, laying a comforting hand on his back. He could feel the warmth of Chase's skin through the thin T-shirt. Chase had started to let his hair grow, and it curled down almost to his low collar. "No, Chase," he said gently. "You're one of the best people I've ever known, in any way."

"Well, you're prejudiced." Usually a comment like this would have clearly been teasing, but now... William felt that he'd come to know Chase well, but he'd never seen him in a mood like this, and he didn't quite know how to react. Chase's next remark took him by surprise. "What do you smell?"

"I... I'm not sure. I guess..." William tried to identify scents without actually sniffing--that would seem a little too coarse here. "Um... flowers."

"The Ladies Auxiliary uses lilac oil to polish."

"And wood."

"That's because they have all new hymnals--it's the paper that smells like that. That and they put out a new batch of those teeny little pencils. Did you ever use one of those to fill in the Os in the church bulletin?"

"I don't think we had a church bulletin."

"Oh, you were deprived. They're excellent for so many things--paper airplanes, impromptu coloring books, cleaning under your fingernails..."

"Chase?"

"I've always loved going to Easter services, though when I was little I hated it that my Easter suit always had to be some plain color like black or dark blue. All the little girls got to wear such gorgeous colors--yellow, pink, lavender. You know, on Easter my mother still wears a hat and white cotton gloves. She says that till she was eighteen she got new patent leather shoes and a matching purse every spring. I love my mother."

"I know you do, sweetheart."

"I've felt very close to her in church. Church feels... like home."

"Chase, baby, tell me what this is about."

Chase sighed. He still hadn't moved. His voice dull, he said, "I was shopping. I was trying to find a really fresh carton of milk, and you know what a pain it is to check those little 'sell by' dates. I was bent over, digging in the dairy case. And someone right behind me said 'You're going to hell'." William felt his insides freeze. "Got my attention. I stood up and turned around and said the first thing that came into my head. I said, 'For wearing white after Labor Day?'"

William would have laughed if there hadn't been clear pain in Chase's voice. "Who was it?"

There was a watery chuckle. "You're not going to get to go defend my honor. I have no idea who he was. It was just some old man with droopy pants and spots on his shirt. Oh, and he was wearing house shoes, with the backs bent down to turn them into slippers. He said, 'You're an abomination in the sight of God, and you're going to Hell.'" Chase took a breath. "I told him to flip the record over, this side was starting to repeat itself. Then I grabbed a half gallon of milk and went to the check out. That old poot got me so upset that I bought skim. I'll never make decent sauces or custards without the fat content."

It was like hearing someone trapped in a crushed car worrying about the damage to the paint while paramedics used the jaws of life to get them out. "Chase, I've seen you rip new ones for people who insulted you or your friends. What was it that got you this time?"

"He looked like my pastor back home." Chase was silent while William winced. Then Chase said softly, "Not the clothes. Pastor Benson's wife would have his scalp if he went around dressed like that. And the eyes were wrong. Pastor has cocker spaniel eyes--soft and brown. This man's were more like a Doberman's. It's just... I had a flash of my own pastor saying something like that, if he knew." Chase finally turned his head to look at William, and there were tears streaking his cheeks. "He doesn't know, Will. I never told him. He doesn't know I'm... the way I am."

William finally did what he'd wanted to. He gathered Chase into his arms, holding him closely. Chase buried his face against William's shoulder, crying softly. William patted him, whispering, "I think he knows, Chase."

Chase sniffed. "Yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious, if you aren't willfully blind."

"That's not what I mean, babe. I mean that he knows what you really are. He knows you're a sweet, funny, loyal, hardworking, loving, generous, big-hearted boy who'd do anything for the people he cares about..." William kissed the top of his head, "and a hell of a lot for people who don't half deserve you." He tucked Chase's head under his chin, and glanced at the ceiling. "Everyone who needs to know, knows, and you couldn't be loved any more than you are, just as you are."