[Fuck. Fine. They'll need to get away from the cops somehow and it seems like cooperating is the best way to do that, if they'll just drop them off and leave. Probably it won't be that easy though, they'll probably have questions, especially with him blaming Papa for Chrissy's nosebleed.

Fuck. Well, no winning this one.]

Yeah. I'll follow.

[Man, what the fuck is he going to do, though? Well, no time to plan. They're going to have to deal with whatever happens as it happens. Johnnie hops on his motorcycle, gets the engine started, and suffers the slow drive back those few blocks.

The cop car pulls up in his Papa's driveway, and Johnnie parks the motorcycle on the curb but doesn't immediately hop up to go join them all. If he has to bail, he wants to already be on the street.

And there's his stupid asshole father, waiting, ready to open the door right as one of the cops gets out to knock, while the other offers her a hand out of the back seat and holds the door for her like pigs can be gentlemen or some shit.]

Evening, sir. We found them just down the street.

[Papa looks from Chrissy to Johnnie, the tiredness in his eyes showing. It's late. Or early. This isn't how he wanted to start the day.]

Thanks for looking after them, officer. Johnnie, come on over.

[Johnnie bristles, and very nearly stays exactly where he is. But he takes a second and a half to think on it, then hops off and slowly strides toward the door. He's a lot of things right now - pissed off, for sure - but he's no coward.]

We told you we were on our way. What the hell more d'you want, old man?