Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, guys, we're both busy and overwhelmed ourselves.
Chapter 12: Overwhelmed
The next morning, breakfast was cut short when the phone rang, delivering happy news: Davy had a desk job. His new employer, Mr. Faust, had seen the Monkees play before, and wanted to help them get back up on their feet. He was willing to give Davy a chance, and had even pulled some strings to get him started as soon as possible. Davy rushed to get ready and left excitedly, saying with a smile that their luck was starting to look up. He told Micky that he would try to visit Mike after work, as his new job was in the city not too far from the hospital, and he probably wouldn't be home until visiting hours were over.
Micky was happy that Davy had gotten the job, but for more reasons than Davy was. Micky was glad Davy was happy and that he was able to work, but it also worked out well for him. With Davy out of the house during business hours now, Micky would be able to continue looking for work without Davy knowing, especially if he left while Peter was at physical therapy. But Peter wouldn't be leaving for about half an hour, and Micky was trying to at least take it easy for a little while, for Davy's sake, so after he cleared breakfast away and made sure the house was clean, he sat for a little while to talk to Peter, who still seemed too quiet.
"Ahh…" Micky sighed as he sat down. He had to admit, it felt good to sit and do nothing, even if he was antsy to get going on his job search.
"Are you alright, Micky?" Peter asked.
"Right as rain," Micky said. "Just taking a bit of a rest." Hopefully, Peter would report this to Davy later on. "How about you? You feeling alright?"
"Yeah," Peter said, looking away for a second. "...Maybe a little nervous about physical therapy."
"Don't worry," Micky said. "We all had to pretend to be patients in that clinic when you got kidnapped looking for Professor Schnitzler, and we did some physical therapy. It wasn't that bad; just various exercises and stuff. It's gonna be a bit different for you, but I'm sure everything will be fine."
"Hey, Micky," Peter smiled. "Remember when we substituted you for Professor Schnitzler on the gurney, and then Mike and the evil doctor fought over whose patient you were?"
"Oh yeah," Micky said. "I don't think I've ever been so dizzy in my life. And then when you guys all started wheeling me around the halls, that was a fun trip."
"Yeah…" Peter said. "Were you scared?"
"Of course I was," Micky said looking at his friend and seeing the fear staring back at him. "But I knew I was going to be ok. I knew you guys were gonna look out for me. I knew you guys wouldn't let anything happen to me. And we're gonna do the exact same thing for you, Pete. We're gonna make sure nothing happens to you."
"I know," Peter said. "That's not what I'm afraid of."
"You wanna talk about it?" Micky asked.
"I don't really know what to expect," Peter said. "What if it hurts? What if it doesn't work?"
"I'm pretty sure it's gonna hurt," Micky said. "But you'll have to push past it. They're gonna be working muscles that haven't worked for a while. If you don't do it, you won't ever know if it'll work for one and for two, you could seriously hurt yourself. You don't move your legs enough, you could get a blood clot or something."
"How do you know all that?" Peter asked.
"I've done some reading," Micky said. "Doctors gave us pamphlets and stuff. I wanted to make sure we knew what to do."
"I really don't want that," Peter said.
"What do you mean?" Micky asked.
"I don't want to put you guys out for me," Peter said. "Especially after what you've already done."
"Peter, we're friends," Micky answered. "Friends help each other. That's what they do. It's in the job description."
"Micky…" Peter started.
"Before you start, that was a joke," Micky said cutting him off a little. "I want to do this. I wanted to change the house; to get it ready for you. I want to help you. So does Davy. You have nothing to feel guilty for."
"Neither do you," Peter said silencing Micky. "I was talking more about what you did for me just after the accident. The doctors told me what you did. How you crawled into that car to cut me out. How you risked your life to save mine. You've done more than enough for me already, Micky. You don't have to keep straining yourself for me. You can just rest now."
"I am resting, Peter," Micky said.
"Davy said you were out looking for a job every day," Peter said.
"I am," Micky admitted, "but I have to. Not just for you. For all of us. We have to pay rent somehow, right? Don't worry so much about me, Peter. I'm not as hurt as Davy says I am. I'm fine. And besides, I want to do these things for you. When I crawled into that car, it was all instinct. I didn't even think about the possibility of me dying. The only thing going through my mind was what might happen to you. You gotta admit: you would have done the same thing in my shoes. Same thing with Davy and Mike."
"I know," Peter sighed. "But I just don't want you guys spending the rest of your lives taking care of me. I want you to live your own lives; not sacrifice them for me."
"We won't, Peter," Micky said. "I have to believe that you'll recover from this, Peter. But even if you don't, we'll still be there for you whenever you need us. That doesn't mean we'll be sacrificing ourselves for you. Lots of people still lead full happy lives taking care of loved ones with disabilities. And you're not going to lose out on life either. Ray Charles played blind. Beethoven was deaf and wrote some of the best pieces known to man. Just because you can't move your legs, doesn't mean you have to stop playing, Pete. We can probably figure out a way to move the foot pedals on the piano so you can reach them. You can easily work around that. And you can easily hold a guitar and a banjo on your lap."
"I don't know, Micky," Peter said. "I don't know if I'll feel the same way sitting."
"I have no doubt you'll be fine, Peter," Micky said standing up and looking at his watch. It was almost time for Peter's appointment; Debi had gone to the store to pick up a few things that she said Peter would need. "Let's get you ready for your appointment. Debi will be back any minute to take you." Micky helped Peter get ready for his appointment and when Debi got back from the store, he helped her get him in her van. After he was sure Peter had left, he started walking down the street again in search of a job. He knew taking whatever he could get would make Davy and Peter upset, but he also knew he had to. They'd forgive him eventually, right?
Once again, Mike felt lonely. He had been stuck in this hospital for almost three weeks now and he was getting stir crazy. They had gone through another round of tests and exams with Mike and he was getting tired of them. The MRI machine was loud and annoying and he really just wanted people to back off. And he desperately wanted to go home. These plain white walls felt like a prison cell to him. He didn't know where home was or what it would be like, but he knew it had to at least be better than this place. Mike looked up as Davy came in and felt a small spark of happiness, though he didn't really know why or where it came from.
"Hey, Mike," he said smiling and sitting down in one of the chairs. "How ya doing?"
"I'm doing just great," he said dryly. "Never felt better in my life."
"Well, your sarcasm sure wasn't affected," Davy laughed. "I've got some good news, though. I got a job!"
"Congratulations," Mike said, somewhat absently.
"I have even better news," Davy said. "The doctor says you'll get to go home in a week! Isn't that great!?"
"Best news I've heard all week," Mike said excitedly.
"I knew you'd like that," Davy smiled. "We miss you."
"I know you've told me before, but tell me about the house again?" Mike asked hoping that maybe this time something would click in his memory. "And about Micky and Peter?" He saw a flash of something in Davy's eyes, but wasn't sure what. It was quickly gone, however, and Davy smiled.
"Sure thing," he said. "The Pad's great. It's right on the beach, and we've got a huge bay window, right on the bandstand." Mike laid against the pillow listening as Davy continued on, but just like the other times Davy had talked about the pad, he felt nothing. No glimmer of recognition, no flash of remembrance… not even a slight sense of deja vu. He sighed, something that did not escape Davy's notice, and he paused in his narrative with a worried frown. "You alright, Mike?"
"Well, 'bout as right as I can be, I s'pose," Mike said. "It's just not working."
"Not even a little?" Davy asked.
"Not even a little," Mike affirmed. "It's like… like you're describing someplace I've never been."
"...Well, maybe when you see it you'll remember," Davy suggested hopefully.
"I doubt it," Mike said irritably. "If just seeing something was supposed to work, than I should have remembered you. But I don't. I don't remember any of this." As soon as the words left Mike's mouth, he wished he hadn't spoken. Seeing the look on Davy's face- although what look it was, he wasn't sure- made him feel guilty. He bit his bottom lip, suddenly realizing that he'd gotten sloppy. He'd come to count on this boy, he'd gotten too close. He couldn't afford to be tied down, not now.
Narrowing his eyes and looking away, he put his shields back up. There was no way he was making himself vulnerable. Accepting that he had known these guys was one thing. Trusting them with his heart was another. He'd been hurt too many times to let himself go so easily. Even though he was trying not to look, he could still see Davy, and it was obvious by the look on his face that Davy sensed the sudden change in mood.
"...Mike?" He asked.
"Yes, Davy?" Mike responded, turning to look at Davy while trying to pretend like he didn't care. It hurt; it hurt to pretend he didn't like the little guy… he almost thought of Davy like an actual friend, not just somebody he didn't really know. But it was for the best. Davy hesitated before responding as though trying to find the right words.
"...Nothing," he said finally, shaking his head and looking at the floor. They sat for awhile in silence before Davy began chattering again, although his efforts seemed a bit lackluster. Mike joined in when he had something to say, but for the rest of Davy's visit, there was tension between the two of them, hanging in the air like a thick curtain. Soon it was time for Davy to go, and after a rather nervous goodbye from the younger man, Mike was left alone.
He sat broodingly for awhile, thinking over the events of the day. He hated the way he had treated Davy, what had seemed like protecting himself from hurt at the time now seemed, in retrospect, like he was pushing Davy away. He didn't want that. In this new crazy life he had woken up in, he wanted, he desperately needed, someone to help him stay grounded, to be a steady constant. He felt like he was floundering, drowning in an ocean of new faces and new buildings and a new sky and a new home.
But instead, he had stubbornly exiled himself from the closest thing to a constant he had. He wouldn't be surprised if Davy didn't come back. He would deserve it. After how he had treated Davy, when he only wanted to help, he deserved nothing less. The quiet and the emptiness of the room engulfed him. He couldn't do anything right, it seemed. Even when he only wanted to protect himself, he just screwed everything up. What was wrong with him?
In the back of his mind, a tiny voice told him he was overthinking things, that it wasn't as bad as it seemed… But that voice was drowned out by fears of the future, as his mind switched topics and he tried to picture the house, based on Davy's descriptions of it. His idea of how it looked continued to shift, until, frustrated, he gave up the effort.
He finally rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with his injuries. He found himself in an unfamiliar world of chaotic novelties, and it had him very much overwhelmed.
