Author's notes: This story is, like so many others, a story of how the Monkees met. It gets a bit dark, but I don't think it's too dark. The first eight chapters will be focused on the Monkees lives before they met, two chapters for each Monkee. This first chapter is the first half of Micky's past. Warnings: Mild child abuse.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Monkees, I own only the plot and OC's.

Micky was confused. He didn't know what was happening. The small apartment was filled with grown ups all wearing matching clothes, his mother was crying, and he was sitting on the couch next to his older brother Paulie, who looked angry.

"Paulie, what's going on?" Micky whispered.

"Shh," Was the only response he got, as a tall man wearing a suit knelt down in front of the two boys.

"Hey, kids," The man said with a small smile. "My name's Jonathan. Are you alright?"

"Yes," Paulie said tersely. "We're both fine. Why are you here?"

Jonathan chuckled sadly. "We got a call," he said, looking at Paulie. "Somebody told us that you two weren't being looked after properly."

"We're looked after just fine," Paulie said. "So you can go away and leave us alone now."

Jonathan looked around at the apartment, which was small and dirty, with a broken window and small cigarette holes in the thin carpet, and he sighed.

"Yeah, well I wish we could just take your word for it," He said, taking a notepad and pencil out of his pocket. "But where'd you get that bruise, son?"

Paulie blinked, and for a second, he looked scared. "I tripped," he said, reaching up and absently touching the small bruise on his cheek.

"No you didn't," Micky said in confusion. "Don't you remember? Mommy got mad..."

Micky trailed off as Paulie nudged him and said "Shh..." Once again.

Jonathan looked at Micky. "And what's your name, kiddo?" He asked. Micky looked at Paulie, who pursed his lips and looked away. Micky turned back to Jonathan. "My name's Micky," He said tentatively.

"Micky, that's a fun name," Jonathan said, writing something down in his notebook. "Like Mickey Mouse?"

Micky smiled. "Yeah," he said. "Like Mickey Mouse."

"Except there's no 'e'," Paulie spoke up.

Jonathan blinked. "No e?" He asked. "...Oh, I get it! You don't spell Micky with an e. That's cool, makes it special."

Micky smiled. "Yeah," He agreed. "Special."

"Tell me, Micky-with-no-e," Jonathan said. "How old are you?"

"I'm five," Micky said.

"No you're not," Paulie said. "You're four. You won't be five until September."

Micky sighed. "I'm almost five," he clarified. "But I'm not a baby!"

"Oh, no, I can see that," Jonathan said. "And what about you?" He asked, turning to Paulie. "What's your name?"

Paulie hesitated. "...Paulie," he said finally. "Paulie Dolenz."

"Alright, Paulie," Jonathan said. "How old are you?"

"I'll be eleven in July," Paulie said.

"Okay," Jonathan said, writing it down. "And it says here you've been removed before, and were in foster care for a year, is that right?"

Paulie nodded sullenly. "They let me come back when I was six, before Micky was born," he said. "They said she was better."

"Who was better, Paulie?" Micky asked. "Where'd you go?"

"Shh," Paulie said.

Micky sighed and folded his arms.

Jonathan chuckled. "It's pretty annoying to be told to shush, isn't it?" He asked.

Micky nodded. He wasn't sure what "annoying" meant, but it sounded bad, and Micky didn't like being told to shush.

Jonathan smiled, then turned back to his notepad. "Alright," he said, his smile disappearing. "Micky, you said your mom got mad before. Does your mom get mad a lot?"

Paulie huffed, and Micky glanced at him before turning back to Jonathan. "Sometimes," he said. "She gets mad sometimes, when she's sick."

"I see," Jonathan said. "And what's she like when she's sick?"

"Oh, you know how she's like when she's 'sick'," Paulie snapped angrily. "What, you gonna make him describe it to you?"

Jonathan sighed. "Sorry, you're right," he said. "Paulie, how often does your mom get 'sick'?"

Paulie glared for a second. "Only sometimes," he said. "Usually she doesn't come back until it's wore off."

"Alright," Jonathan said, writing it down. "That was another thing, the person who called us said that your mother isn't home a lot. They said that she stays away for days sometimes. Is that true?"

Micky nodded. "She's very busy," he said. "Paulie says she has to go to work, to buy food and shoes and stuff."

Paulie looked up at Jonathan. "You know how it is," he said.

Jonathan looked extremely tired for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah I do, Paulie. You shouldn't have to, is the problem here."

Paulie shrugged. "Someone has to take care of Micky," he said. He blinked a few times, and to Micky's surprise, looked like he was about to cry.

"What's wrong, Paulie?" Micky asked, concerned.

Paulie shook his head. "Nothing," he said. Then he took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Mick. Don't worry about it."

Jonathan looked close to tears himself, then he cleared his throat and turned back to his notepad. "Well boys," he said. "I think I've got everything I need. Hey, Fischer!"

One of the men in the blue coats came over and stood next to Jonathan.

"Hey boys, this is Mr. Fischer," Jonathan said, turning back to Paulie and Micky. "He's gonna give you a ride down to the office while we finish up here, okay?"

"Okay," Micky said, following as Paulie jumped down from the couch and glared at the floor.

"Come on, kids!" Fischer said in an overly-bright voice. "Everything's gonna be okay now!"

Paulie sent his silent fury towards Fischer as he took Micky's hand and they followed the man outside towards a police car. Micky looked at it, he had seen those before, when his mom watched television.

As Fischer lifted Micky into the backseat and Paulie climbed in after him, Micky looked around, and waited until Fischer closed the door before turning to Paulie.

"Paulie," He said in a whisper. "Are we being arrested?"

Paulie let out a scoff. "No," he said bitterly. "We're being removed."

"Oh..." Micky thought that over for a second. "I don't like that word."

"To be honest, I don't either," Paulie said. "Now, shh."

After a trip to an office, where another man asked the same kind of questions that Jonathan had, they were brought to a house across town for "temporary placement." They were introduced to "Bob and Tammy," who would be taking care of them for a few weeks while "things got sorted out," and were given two lumpy beds in a crowded room upstairs.

Micky sat on his bed and looked around, there were three other boys there already. They were different ages and they all looked different, and they all looked sullen and glared at Micky and Paulie angrily. Micky decided he didn't like any of those boys.

They stayed with Bob and Tammy for three weeks, and Micky was a bit startled at first by the enforcement of rules, and the daily breakfasts and dinners, and when one of the other kids left one day and was replaced about a week later.

After the three weeks with Bob and Tammy, Paulie and Micky were moved to an apartment complex and introduced to Shawn and Harriet, and their lives changed once again. Shawn and Harriet's apartment was small and dirty, and smelled like old cigarette smoke mixed with dirty laundry and the lingering odor of dog urine.

There was one other kid there, a ten year-old boy named Frank, who was Harriet's son. Frank was very mean to Paulie and Micky, he picked on them, he called them names, and he would get into trouble and blame it on Micky. Harriet always believed Frank over Micky, even when Paulie had seen Frank do whatever he was saying Micky had done. Harriet said Paulie was just playing favorites and trying to get his little brother out of trouble.

They were given chores to do as well, which isn't bad in and of itself, but the amount of chores Harriet gave them was bordering on ridiculous. She said they had to earn their keep. Paulie was given the task of keeping the bedrooms and the bathroom clean, as well as washing the dishes and taking out the garbage.

Micky was told to keep trash and clutter out of the kitchen and living room, and he was often told to help Paulie with his chores. He didn't mind, when he wasn't working, he was being bullied by Frank, so he preferred to work anyway.

Then the school year started, and Micky finally started school. He'd always wanted to go to school. In the past, when they'd lived at the apartment, Micky was left alone while Paulie went off to school, after making Micky a lunch to eat later, carefully locking all the doors, and reminding Micky not to open them for anybody, and telling him what to do if someone broke in. Then Micky would entertain himself all day, eat the lunch when he got hungry, and wait for Paulie to get home. Now, he was finally able to go himself.

Micky decided after the first week, however, that he hated school. Some of the kids were nice, and played with him and talked to him, but some of the kids were mean and picked on him, and called him names. The teacher separated the class into different groups, The A group, the B group, the C group, and the D group, and she put Micky in the D group because he didn't know his letters or his numbers or his colors or anything. Even in the D group, the other kids knew more than he did.

And the teacher got exasperated when Micky wouldn't sit still during nap-time when he wasn't tired, or when he talked all through learning time instead of doing his work quietly like the other kids. He ended up in time-out more often than all the other kids, and they all started saying he was a bad kid. Micky didn't want to be a bad kid. He just couldn't sit still or be quiet. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to say.

But the teacher didn't seem to understand, and so Micky started to dread school. But he dreaded being at the house even more, so he decided he'd rather be at school by default.

At the house, things started to get worse when Frank started hurting Micky, pinching him or tripping him or shoving him when he walked past. Paulie would have stopped it, but Paulie was usually busy with chores, and he also had homework to do. At first, homework took backseat priority to chores and looking out for Micky, but then one night he brought home an 'F.'

Shawn got mad at that and started yelling at Paulie, calling him ungrateful and stupid. He said that Paulie should be thanking them for taking him and Micky in, and that he should work harder to repay them. He said that if the social worker found out about Paulie's F, they might take them away again, and there was no guarantee they would be placed together next time.

He shouted at Paulie and yelled out words, words that Micky had heard on the televison, but that Paulie had told him he must never repeat. Shawn said that the only reason he and Harriet had even taken them in was for the extra money the state paid them to do it. He said that if it were up to him, Paulie and Micky should have been shipped off to a juvenile detention center, because they were so bad, but he and Harriet had been good enough to take them in, and unless Paulie started working harder, they would make sure the state came and took them away, and he would never see Micky again.

Micky, who was hiding out in their bedroom, heard all of this, and it scared him. He didn't think he could stand it if he never saw Paulie again. Paulie was his brother. Shawn and Harriet couldn't have the power to keep them apart. Could they?

Just in case, Micky resolved to make sure Paulie had time to do his homework, so he could keep his grades at a C level at best. Micky stopped complaining to Paulie about how mean Frank was, or how much he hated school, and Paulie's grades did indeed return to C's and occasionally, a B.

So, life continued on for the two boys, and Micky learned to be more and more independent. He started solving his own problems, and he started taking care of himself.

After they had been living with Shawn and Harriet for a year and a half, they were taken away again. Paulie said that Harriet told him she didn't want them anymore, because they were too bad, and because she was sick of them lying about Frank.

Micky was glad, he hated living with Shawn and Harriet. He asked Paulie where they were going to go next, and Paulie said he didn't know. He asked Paulie if they were still going to be together, and Paulie swallowed and again, said he didn't know, but that he hoped so.

Luckily, they were placed together once again, this time with a nice family who lived in a big house, and for the first time, Micky was really truly happy.

Their foster parents were a nice couple named Jim and Wanda, and they had three kids of their own, and one other foster kid. The three natural kids were named Jenny, Tyler, and Linda, ages 16, 13, and 11. Tyler was only a few months older than Paulie, and they shared a room. Jenny and Linda shared a room, and Micky shared a room with the other foster kid, a boy named Greg. Greg was a year older then Micky, who was six at this point, but Greg was nice to Micky and shared his toys and welcomed Micky into his room, so Micky decided he liked him.

Jim and Wanda treated all the kids the same, they didn't treat their kids better than Paulie, Greg and Micky. Jim worked at an office downtown, and would sometimes bring home treats to give the kids, and he quickly discovered which kinds of candy Paulie or Micky liked best.

Wanda was nice and fair, she had a set list of rules that she explained to Paulie and Micky when they came, and the rules were written down on a board and hung in the hallway outside all the bedrooms. She also had a chore chart that had all the kids names on it, in a different color for each kid. Micky's was blue. He liked that color.

Each kid had one chore they were supposed to do, and then they were supposed to make their bed, put away their toys at the end of the day, and remember to put all their laundry in the laundry basket every Monday and Friday, which were laundry days. Micky's chore was to set the table for dinner every night, which he did gladly.

Wanda also made sure that all of the kids got to school on time, she drove a big van with enough seats for every kid and the family dog, Brewster. Brewster was a basset hound, and didn't do anything except sit down and stare at you, but all the kids loved him, and even though it was Tyler's chore to walk Brewster every day, most of the time all the kids went together, if the weather was nice.

When Jim came home, he always offered to help with any homework questions, and he was patient and explained things in a way that made it easy to understand. Micky started doing better in school, and although he still had trouble being quiet or sitting still, he didn't get put in time-out as much as he used to, and the teachers stopped calling him a bad kid.

They weren't perfect, of course, nobody's perfect. But they were good, and they really cared, and that made all the difference.

Then one day, after Paulie and Micky had been there for a year, Jim and Wanda seemed especially happy, and they took Greg into the study and talked with him for a long time. Then they called a family meeting, and announced that they had gone through some papers, and had talked to some people, and they had gotten the chance to adopt Greg. They said they'd asked Greg if he wanted to be a part of their family, and Greg said yes.

To celebrate, the whole family went out for pizza and ice-cream. Greg smiled for the entire night.

Later, Micky asked Jim what adopt meant, and Jim told him that adoption was when someone who didn't have parents or someone who'd been taken away from their parents was so loved by a family that their foster parents decided to keep them forever, and become their new real parents.

Micky said that sounded nice, and Jim laughed and said that it was nice, and that he had been adopted when he was a little boy.

Then Micky asked if Jim loved him and Paulie enough to adopt them. Jim smiled and said that he loved them enough, but Micky and Paulie were special, and they weren't up for adoption yet. He promised that he and Wanda would do everything they could to keep them, and they would always love them and treat them like they were adopted, and if they ever were up for adoption, he and Wanda would snap them up as fast as they could.

Paulie and Micky lived with Jim and Wanda for so long that Micky almost forgot what it was like to live anywhere else. They lived there for two years after Greg got adopted, making it a total of three years. But then Jim and Wanda came to them and told them that the CPS had called and said they were going to take Micky and Paul (as he now preferred to be called) away from them and give them back to their mother. They said that their mother was changed, and would take care of them better now.

Paul got upset and stomped into his room and locked the door. Micky was upset too, but he was more upset that he would have to leave Jim and Wanda. For the rest of the day, he didn't leave their side, and if they were in separate rooms, he stayed with one of them, and watched the doorway for the other.

The other kids were upset to hear the news, and Wanda threw a big good-bye party, with a chocolate cake, and with ice cream and decorations and balloons. Micky asked where she'd gotten all the decorations, and she said she kept a closet of party supplies, just in case.

The kids all gave them goodbye presents, Jenny, who was 19 and going to college, drove home for dinner and brought two packages, one for Paul and one for Micky. Paul's had a watch in it, Jenny said that he was growing up into a fine young man she would always be proud to call her little brother, and she had scratched "P.D." in the back of it with a fork. She said she couldn't afford to get it engraved last minute, so that was the best she could do. Micky's package had a leather jacket inside. He was still small for his age, but she'd gotten it a size big, saying she wanted him to be warm for as long as possible, and she didn't want him to outgrow it too early. She had embroidered his initials on the front pocket, she joked that Paul was the police department and Micky was a medical doctor.

Tyler gave Paul his favorite baseball cap that he wore everywhere, and when Paul tried to tell him to keep it, Tyler said that he wanted Paul to always remember him, and if he didn't take the hat, Tyler would burn it in the fire-place, so Paul took the hat and put it on, promising to always remember him. To Micky, Tyler gave his old lunchbox with prints of superman on it, that he hadn't used for a few years, but had never bothered to get rid of before then.

Linda hadn't been able to find much, she didn't have money like Jenny did, and she didn't have many things of her own that a boy would like, like Tyler did. Finally, she found a small necklace made of a leather cord with a tiger-tooth pendant for Paul, and she gave Micky an old stuffed dog that looked like Brewster.

Greg was probably the most upset out of the other kids, he and Micky had grown pretty close the last three years. He said sadly that he couldn't think of anything he could give them, except a promise that they would always be brothers to him, even if they never saw each other again.

The next day, though, after Micky and Paul were all packed up and waiting for the social worker, Greg suddenly gasped and ran into his room, and came out a few minutes later clutching something dirty and furry in his hand. He gave it to Micky and explained that it was his lucky rabbit's foot, that his real dad had given him when he was little, before he died. He explained that it always had brought him good luck, but that he didn't need it anymore.

Micky thanked him and put it in his pocket, and then the social worker came, and everyone hugged everyone else, and they all had one last laugh as Micky hugged Paul goodbye by accident, and the laughter quickly turned to choking back tears as Paul and Micky were loaded into the car and waved goodbye one last time.

Neither of them said one word the whole way back to the once-familiar apartment, and as they brought their things up the stairs, followed by the social worker, Micky felt the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. He barely remembered the apartment, only glimpses, and the few memories he had of the place weren't happy memories. They weren't necessarily bad memories, but they weren't happy either.

They expected their mother to be there waiting for them, so it was no surprise when she opened the door and pulled them both into a hug. No, the real surprise was the curly-haired little girl peeking at them from behind their mother's skirt.

"Mom, who is that?" Paul asked warily.

"Oh, Paulie, I've missed you so much," His mother said instead of answering. "And Micky! My little Micky! Oh... You're not so little anymore, are you?"

Micky tried for a smile. "Hello... mom," he said. It was strange. She was his mother, he knew that, but he hadn't seen her for close to five years. He barely remembered her.

"Mom," Paul said again. "Who's that?"

"Hmm?" She asked absently. "Oh! Paulie, Micky, this is Jane, your baby sister."

Micky gaped. What? He had a baby sister now? He sputtered illegibly for a moment and Paul groaned. "How old is she?" He asked.

"Jane, tell your new brothers how old you are," Their mother prompted the little girl, who looked shyly up at the two boys and held up three fingers.

"Three, she's three," Paul said worriedly. "She wasn't twins, was she?"

"No, it's just her," Their mother said. "Why, Paulie, what's the matter? Don't you like Jane?"

Paul sighed and looked at his mother. "Of course I like Jane," he said. "That's not the issue here." Their mother looked about to press the issue further, but thought better of it and shut her mouth.

Paul knelt down and smiled at Jane. "Hello, Jane," he said quietly. "I'm Paul. I'm your brother, and I'll be staying here with you for awhile, alright?"

Jane hesitated, than nodded.

Micky looked at their mother. "Doesn't she talk?" He asked her.

Their mother worried her bottom lip. "N-not really," she said. "Sometimes she makes noises, and she'll laugh occasionally, but usually, she just sort of points..."

Paul sighed before motioning Micky to come down and say hi.

Micky knelt down in front of the little girl, next to Paul, and smiled. "Hello, Jane," he said, quietly, like Paul had done. "I'm your brother, too. My name's Micky."

A flash of recognition sparked in the little girl's eyes, and Micky smiled, excited. "What, what is it?" He said. "Was it my name? Did you like my name?"

The little girl nodded and smiled shyly. "She liked my name!" Micky exclaimed excitedly. "It was my name! Micky! Just like Mickey Mouse! Do you like Mickey Mouse?"

Jane smiled bigger and nodded again.

"That's great!" Micky exclaimed. Then he suddenly slipped his voice into a few octaves higher, and started talking as if he were Mickey Mouse. "Hiya, Jane!" He said. Jane started to giggle quietly. "Micky's the name! Just like Mickey Mouse! Except I don't spell my name with an e. I'm Micky-with-no-e..."

He trailed off as he remembered that day, so many years ago, and then he looked up and saw that his mother and Paul were looking down at him in surprise, and they were smiling. Micky chuckled nervously. "Heh," he said. "I'm just... being Mickey Mouse..."

"Golly, Mick," Paul said. "When did you learn to do that!?"

"I don't know," Micky said. "I haven't seen that show in years. I just started. It was easy."

"You sounded just like Mickey Mouse," Paul said in disbelief.

Micky smiled. "Well, if Jane liked it..." He said. "What'd'ya think, Jane, did ya like it?"

Jane smiled and nodded, and Micky smiled up at Paul. "There you have it," he said. "Jane liked it."

Micky smiled back at Jane. Life might be changing again, and probably not for the better, but he had his lucky rabbit's foot, and he could always make Jane smile by being Mickey Mouse.