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This time around, they weren’t given a car. The mission was local, just a few cities over. It was nothing special, really. It was a by-the-books operation. Visiting a few psychic teens using their powers for the wrong reasons - petty larceny, for the most part, though the Psychonauts were concerned with their alleged assaults - and discussing with their parents opportunities at the Motherlobe was a gentler part of their job. Rather than bombastic undertakings into the minds of masterminds or stealth operations to rescue political figures, the times when Raz could meet face-to-face with younger people and witness hope blossoming in their eyes at the promise of a better tomorrow, he always left their homes with a smile on his face.
“Think they’re gonna join?”
Bobby’s question was carried in the wind as he drove. On his bike, carefully weaving through traffic, he sat with his back straight. Raz had taken the comfortable seat behind him, arms linked around Bobby’s stomach as he looked at the tall skyscrapers through his shaded visor.
“Well, I’m inclined to say they will, but it’s their choice. We’re supposed to check in with them in a few days, remember?” Raz set his chin on Bobby’s shoulder, nestling against the cool leather, when Bobby slowed to a stop. “Pressuring them to join usually has the opposite effect.”
He heard Bobby snort, his helmet shielding his eyes, and Raz caught his lip curl. “I used to think this was real dirty work.”
His grip briefly loosened. “What do you mean?”
Bobby fidgeted with the handlebars. They were wedged between two compact cars, each so close they could have nicked their legs. Raz readjusted his posture, watching as people walked and jogged along the crosswalk.
“When Hollis started having me go out to peoples’ homes, I thought it was bullshit.” Bobby paused, Raz catching how he picked at a loose wrinkle in his jeans. “It felt exactly like how Oleander recruited me. Coming right inside after I had a few episodes in Drywell. Promoting the camps and the Psychonauts. Having me think they were the best damn prospects when, after going there for a while, it felt like a joke. Back there, back home, nothing was working out until I made a change.”
Raz didn’t answer. He was obliged to listen, gently squeezing Bobby’s torso. Around them, engines hummed, and exhaust fumes wafted.
Bobby held out his hand. He kept it still for a moment, then let it drop onto the handlebar. He twisted his head, helmet faintly clinking with Raz’s. Through the deep gray visor, his expression was as placid as his tone. It was a visage that never would have softened him as a frustrated teenager.
“Being on the other side, it’s pretty damn different. You want them to accept help, and-” He huffed out a frustrated breath, briefly fogging his faceplate. “-you’re left waiting. Ya can’t force ‘em, yeah, but when you’ve been in a bad place, or a place way worse than theirs, you want to help them get outta their holes.”
A green flash burned, reflecting off the helmets. Drivers turned their ignitions and released their brakes. They had a head start, and Bobby was swift to follow. He turned from Raz and kicked his bike into gear. They drove onward, his words hanging over them, far heavier than the dissipating fumes.
Raz couldn’t quite imagine what his life would have been like without the Psychonauts. Rueing the circus, ties severing with his family, such an existence was unfathomable. The truth remaining locked in a tomb, a stagnant continuation would have followed Raz well into an unfulfilled adulthood.
Considering Bobby’s circumstances, Raz pursed his lips. He gripped the open flap of Bobby’s jacket, holding it still against the whipping wind. When they were children, Bobby’s choices were, somehow, more limited. Without the Psychonauts, for both of them, it would have been like drowning in quicksand, remaining as they were in inevitable situations, unable to free themselves without the offered rope. Raz had grasped it sooner than Bobby, and the results were the same, as they were the ones offering assistance to those currently living in their former shame.
A grin tugged at Raz’s mouth. He leaned forward, his helmet resting against the back of Bobby’s. Bobby might have stiffened when Raz held him closer, taking a brisk corner off the main road between stucco apartment complexes, but he came to a gradual halt when another red light stopped them.
Setting his chin on Bobby’s shoulder again, helmets nestling together, Raz said, “I think we turned out pretty all right, Bobby. We just have to do what we can for others.”
He heard Bobby’s breath hitch. Then, he exhaled with a prolonged sigh. His head lolled forward and up, leaning back to smirk at Raz. Bobby revved his engine, and Raz sat down, glimpsing at the soaring cirrus clouds overhead. They moved in the opposite direction of the Motherlobe, and as the light changed, Raz proposed a different question.
“Hey, I know we have to go back to headquarters, but think we can drive around a little longer?”
Over the cry of his engine, Bobby hollered, “Any place you wanna go?”
“Nah!”
Bobby slowed, cars passing them. He flicked on his blinker, taking two right turns and a left. Then, they were on a back road to nowhere, the city bleeding into the distance. Smaller businesses surrounded them, connected by interwoven sidewalks and crosswalks.
“I’m taking us to our sushi place. Your treat,” Bobby declared, emitting a wheezy yelp when Raz suddenly squeezed on his torso.
“You’re cheap! I covered you last time!”
“I’ve been driving both ways, and that’s gas money outta my pocket! We’re even!”
Raz barked out a laugh, letting the argument disperse before it could linger. He leaned into Bobby, resting his head on his shoulder. Basking in Bobby’s warmth, the sun high in the sky, Raz closed his eyes, grinning as Bobby reached back to clutch his hand.