(A/N): I finally had enough down time to actually sit and write for a good couple of hours. I hope you guys enjoy this one. Thanks so much for all of your reviews and support on this story. I really appreciate it. :)

Chapter 10

At three o clock sharp, when the school bell rang, signaling the end of another busy day, Beatrice happily slung her backpack over her shoulder and skipped out of the building cheerily. She was surprised to see that the sky that had once been a bright blue earlier that morning had turned into a depressing gray over the hours. But she ignored all negative thoughts when she saw Peter waiting for her by the bicycle rack. Beatrice picked up her pace heartily and ran to him, jumping into his arms. The man smiled and hugged her back tightly.

"Hey Bea! How was your day?" He asked her. The girl smiled widely.

"It was great! We learned the three times table today!" She exclaimed, taking his hand as the two of them headed off towards the Monkeemobile together.

"That's cool," Peter said. "We were thinking about heading down to the pier like we promised last night. Would you be up for that?" Beatrice nodded her head excitedly, her hair bobbing wildly. As the two found their way to the car, Mike opened the door. He craned his neck out of the open window and stared at the sky uncertainly.

"I dunno about the pier anymore, guys. The sky looks awfully gray; I think there may be a storm coming." Micky rolled his eyes from the backseat.

"Oh Mike, stop being such a worrywart. It doesn't look that bad. Let's go." Mike shot his friend a look but when he caught a glance of Beatrice on Davy's lap, her blue eyes practically begging him to take them down, his expression softened as he started the engine.

"Alright, if you say so." He mumbled, driving off into the California sunlight.

Mike was right (as usual). There was a storm brewing, and it was a doozy. When the quintet had arrived at the pier earlier that afternoon, they had spent a good hour just playing around and winding down from the tiring Monday. Davy had stood overlooking the ocean with an eager Beatrice atop his shoulders as they chatted brightly. Peter and Micky had each taken one of her tiny hands as she skipped in between the two of them, babbling on about the day. Mike had sat firmly with his feet dangling over the water as the small child sat on his lap, his strong grip securing her from falling. She rested her head against his chest as he sang softly into her ear. It wasn't much, just a possible tune for a future song. But Beatrice enjoyed it anyways. But soon, dark storm clouds began to roll in, and sure enough, it started pouring out of nowhere.

And when I say pouring, I mean POURING.

The Monkees had scooped up Bea and made a desperate run for their car, but by the time they all arrived back at The Pad, all five of them were soaked to the bone, shivering and absolutely drenched. They ate a warm dinner of tomato soup with crackers and all took nice warm baths before the guys each gave Beatrice a quick hug and a kiss as they tucked her into bed. They thought that everything from there would be fine. But they were wrong.

Micky awoke on Tuesday morning to find that he was the first one up for once. The curly haired man noticed that it was almost seven, so he shook his three roommates awake and made his way across the hallway to get Beatrice up as well. When he opened her door, he couldn't help but smile when he saw her small framed all wrapped up in her blankets. Micky carefully pattered across the cold floor and kneeled down beside her, brushing her bangs out of her face gently.

"Beatrice," He cooed softly. "It's time to get up for school." The girl stirred in her sleep and groaned. Micky shook her gently and was met with a startling sight. Bea's face was a ghastly white. She had paled tremendously; however, her nose was bright red. She rubbed her eyes wearily and frowned.

"I don't feel good, Micky." She whimpered, letting out a pitiful cough. The man's face instantly fell as he placed a hand on her forehead. She was burning up.

"You don't feel good? Tell me what's wrong." He said as the seven year old turned to face him. She grasped his wrist with her small fingers. Her hands were ice cold, making him flinch.

"My throat hurts and my head hurts and I've been coughing all night." She explained. Micky nodded his head understandingly.

"Well kiddo, it sounds like you've got a cold. I'll go get the other guys, and we'll see what we can do." He comforted her, kissing the top of her head as he stood up and walked back across the hall. The rest of the Monkees were up and getting dressed. Davy smiled warmly at him, but soon stopped when he saw his friend's distressed expression.

"Is Bea ready for school?" He asked as Micky walked into the door frame. He shook his head.

"I think she caught a cold overnight from running in the rain. I walked in to check on her and she's burning up with a fever and has a cough, a sore throat, and a headache." Micky explained, earning himself three shocked looks.

"WHAT?!" The remaining Monkees hastily threw on the rest of their clothes and sprinted across the hall. Mike straightened his tie and quietly walked into the girl's room. The rest of the guys could soft muttering as the two of them talked silently with one another, until Mike came bolting out, shutting the door behind him.

"She's sick," he wheezed out rapidly. "She's sick and it's all my fault." Peter cocked an eyebrow.

"Your fault?" He asked. Mike nodded as struggled breaths started to escape from his slowly constricting chest.

"I knew we shouldn't have gone to the pier. I knew it was going to rain. Now our little girl is suffering and it's all my fault." Micky stared at his friend with panic filed eyes as he saw that Mike was starting to hyperventilate. His chest was heaving up and down wildly as wheezy, harmonica sounding gasps were coming out of his mouth. Mike had the tendency to do this. He was a perfectionist. He had to have things go the right way or he would just make himself sick about it. He'd get all worked up and start forgetting how to breathe, giving himself asthma flare-ups from stress. Micky carefully placed both of his hands on his friend's heaving shoulders, pushing Mike's back against the wall, sliding him down to the floor.

"Mike, just calm down. You need to breathe." He said, as Davy turned back into their bedroom, grabbing the man's inhaler off of his bedside table. He hurriedly handed it to Micky, who handed it to Mike, who took it gratefully with a shaky hand. He snatched off the cap, shook it up, and placed the mouthpiece to his lips, pressing down on the canister. Instantly, he felt relief sweep over him as the medication shot through his lungs, loosening up his airways, letting sweet oxygen flow through them again. His three friends stared at him with concerned eyes.

"Are you okay?" Micky questioned worriedly. Mike nodded, taking one more puff of his plastic lifesaver.

"Okay. Mike, it's not your fault." He said. The Texan let out a wheezy sigh but nodded again. Peter crawled over and sat beside him.

"If Bea sees you like this, she's going to get scared too. Do you want that?" He asked patiently. Mike shook his head.

"Now, look. The kid's got a cold. There's nothing we can do to change that. But we can help her. We'll stay home and take care of her, because that's what parents are supposed to do. This is just a little bump in the road, but we can make it through, right?" Davy consoled. Mike considered this, but nodded again. His breathing was back to normal, much to everyone's relief.

"You're right. I overreacted. I just don't want anything to happen to her. I want her to be safe from everything. But she's human. She's gonna get colds and scrapes and stuff like that. I need to accept that and take responsibility instead of freaking out." He admitted, standing up slowly with Davy and Peter's support. Micky smiled and patted him on the back.

"That's the spirit." He said as the four of them walked into Bea's bedroom together. Davy took a seat on the pink bed beside her as the small girl stared up at him with curious eyes, letting out a small cough. He smiled.

"Looks like you're staying home today, kiddo."

(A/N): Hope you enjoyed! Hopefully, I'll be able to get another chapter posted this weekend. Please review! :)