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# O Lord, my heart is not proud, nor haughty mine eyes. I have not gone after things too great, nor marvels beyond me.... #
Having finally escaped from the vast numbers of police officers that had been on their tails, Elwood had pulled up at a hotel out in the middle of nowhere. The band, relieved to be out of the car, had taken rooms and were either freshening up, or catching up on lost sleep.
Mack and Buster had gone downstairs to the hotel's restaurant for food, offering to bring back something for Elwood – he had declined, but was nonetheless appreciative. Sitting on the bed, he leaned his elbows on his knees, with a photo of Curtis in his hands. While they had been on the run, the band had taken shelter in a church, where Buster – mistaking Elwood for a priest in the confessional – had owned up to a guilt-trip following accidentally blowing the band's cover, resulting in Elwood blowing a couple of fuses, and herding everyone into the car.
Elwood felt uncomfortable. The boy's admission hadn't entirely surprised him. Of course the kid had been upset by his reaction. Yet... he continued to look down at the photo in his hands. Curtis had never once raised his voice or his hand to either Elwood or Jake when they had been children of Buster's age. Despite everything they pulled, everything they put Curtis – and the Penguin – through, never once had their paternal figure lost his temper.
While in the confessional, Elwood had resolved to talk things over with Buster – something he hadn't done yet. They'd need to broach the subject sooner or later. Turning his right hand palm up and straightening his fingers, he remembered the wooden rosary he had taken out of his pocket along with the photo – apart from his harmonica and that photo of Curtis, it was the only other thing he tended to carry with him everywhere, having been gifted it at a young age, following his confirmation.
While in the confessional, Elwood had – in the guise of confessor – assigned prayers to the boy. He sighed. Perhaps he too needed to make his own move towards redemption.
He slipped the photo back into his pocket, and looped the rosary around his left hand, holding on to the cross, quietly murmured, “in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost”, and began to run through the Apostle's Creed.
***
After filling up on a burger, fries and milk, Buster had excused himself from lunch. Mack being Mack, didn't ask too many questions, figuring the lad simply needed some sleep. While he certainly felt kind of tired, sleep wasn't the first priority on Buster's mind, however. As there was now quiet to do so, he wondered if he should try to talk to Elwood.
The priest in the confessional back at the church had recommended an apology, and he still needed to complete the penance he had been given.
When Mack had taken Buster downstairs to go eat, Elwood had seemed... distracted. Nevermind the fact that seemed to be Elwood's default state much of the time. Was he still angry? Would he accept the apology, for that matter?
Buster was broken from his reverie by the elevator making a soft ping noise to indicate that he had arrived at the right floor. It was either now or never, so he padded from the elevator and down the corridor to Elwood's room. The door was still slightly ajar, and Buster peeked into the room, where Elwood was still sitting on the bed, arms leaning on his knees, his hat sitting next to him.
Quietly, Buster opened the door just a little further, and began to slip into the room, when he realized what was in Elwood's hands – a set of rosary beads. He was praying. Maybe he should come back...
“It's okay, kid, come on in,” Elwood's voice interrupted Buster's thoughts. The man's posture straightened, and he turned to glance at the door. Buster nodded, closing the door behind him as he came in to the room, and took a seat on the edge of the bed.
There was a brief awkward silence, and then Buster spoke up. “I'm sorry.”
Elwood nodded. “I know.”
Buster looked up at him. “I wasn't trying to get you in trouble.”
Elwood nodded again, this time not meeting his gaze. “Yeh-up.” He looked down at the rosary in his hand. “For what it's worth – that wasn't a priest you spoke to today.”
Buster blinked, then frowned, taken by surprise. “How did you know about that?”
“It was me, Buster,” Elwood offered a sheepish smile. “In the other side of the confessional booth.”
“I thought the voice sounded familiar,” Buster mused. Well, that explained a lot. The muffled voice. The reassurance. The gentle suggestion of an apology. He tilted his head, the thought briefly passing his mind that perhaps Elwood might have made a good priest, were it not for his criminal background.
Another nod from Elwood. “And... I'm sorry for shouting at you, kid. I can see why you might have been upset.”
This time, it was Buster who nodded. Elwood's words seemed to lift some of the weight off his shoulders, soothing away the guilt he had been carrying around. The most he could do was to repay the favour. “I forgive you,” Buster told him, meeting Elwood's eyes. Some of the tension seemed to leave his mentor's face, a small smile lighting up eyes partially hidden by the sunglasses.
Elwood reached up, took off Buster's hat, and ruffled the boy's hair, a comfortable silence falling between them, and then:
“Do I still have to do the prayers you gave as penance?” Buster asked, tilting his head to one side.
Elwood smirked and chuckled, then said, “how 'bout we pray 'em together?”
“Deal,” Buster agreed, and reached into his pocket, pulling out the rosary he had been given at confirmation a few weeks ago.
Elwood waited as the boy slipped the rosary over his left hand, and clasped his hands around the cross, before crossing himself.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit – amen.”
“Amen.”
END