Author's Note: Thanks so much for the words of appreciation! You're wonderful reviews keep me going!
Chapter 12: Rage
Peter was extremely worried about Davy. He knew that deep down Davy knew that none of them would try and hurt him like that and that he was just getting so angry because he wasn't thinking straight due to the feelings of guilt he still harbored over everything that had happened with Ariel. He couldn't exactly blame Davy because he still felt guilty over the whole contract signing thing to begin with.
"I'm going to talk to Davy," Peter announced as Mike and Micky both moved to do exactly the same thing. Peter felt he had to do this and gave a look to Mike and Micky asking them to let him.
"Take it easy on him," Mike said. "He's wound pretty tight as it is."
"I will," Peter answered. Peter walked over to their bedroom door and knocked gently before walking in. Davy sat on the edge of his bed looking very enraged now. Peter wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but something had definitely changed in his friend now. As soon as he'd entered, Davy jumped up and whirled on him. The look on his face slightly terrified Peter.
"Get out of here, Peter," Davy growled.
"Davy, I wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened to your maracas and tambourine," Peter started.
"Oh, so you're the one who did it?!" Davy exclaimed.
"No, no," Peter said. He thought trying to talk to Davy would make things better, but it had looked like things were going very badly.
"I should have known it was you!" Davy exclaimed. "You're jealous of me, aren't you!? You wrecked my instruments because you know I have more vocal talent in my pinky than you do in your whole body!"
"Davy, no," Peter said now backing away. What was wrong with his friend? He'd never acted like this before. "Davy, I didn't. I'm sorry. Please calm down."
"If you didn't do it, why are you apologizing?!" Davy exclaimed advancing on him now. Peter backed up into the door full of terror. Why had his friend suddenly become so unhinged?
"Davy, I'm sorry it happened," Peter tried. "I'm sorry you're upset. We can get you some more. I'll even pay for them!"
"With the money that I helped earn!?" Davy said. "Everyone knows you don't really do much in this band!"
"Davy, please, think about what you're saying," Peter said. He was trying really hard not to take what Davy was saying personally. Something had clearly overcome Davy. There was no way he'd ever act like this on his own.
"I am thinking, Peter!" Davy exclaimed. "I'm thinking clearly for the first time in a long time! I can't believe all the mistakes I've made with you around!"
"Davy…" Peter felt a small tear finally escape his eye and he couldn't take it anymore. He turned and walked through the door. What he saw on the other side, however, wasn't much better. Mike was advancing on Micky with a knife in his hand.
"I've told you multiple times to clean up after yourself, Micky!" Mike was yelling.
"I did, Mike!" Micky answered clearly as terrified and confused as Peter was. Peter walked into the room hoping as Micky continued. Peter hoped he could at least diffuse this situation. "I don't know how that got there. I cleaned the dishes last night. I swear, Mike."
"Oh, you think they magically just got there?!" Mike exclaimed.
"Yes!" Micky yelled. "You just said it yourself! The Devil broke Davy's instruments; he must have done that, too!"
"Mike, please calm down," Peter tried, but Mike wasn't paying attention to him. Davy had followed Peter out of the room, still enraged.
"Oh, that's weak, Micky!" Mike exclaimed. "Even for you! Why would he care about making dirty dishes?!"
"You're all seriously blaming the Devil for breaking my instruments!?" Davy yelled finally getting Mike's attention away from Micky. Not that it was a good thing, though.
"Well, now I'm having second thoughts on that," Mike answered. "It seems a little trivial, doesn't it?"
"Yes, so we can stop fighting about it," Peter tried.
"Trivial!?" Davy yelled. "You think my instruments are trivial?!"
"Davy, Mike, please stop," Micky pled. "Before someone says something they can't take back."
"Shut up, Micky!" Mike yelled.
"I bet you think I'm trivial, too, don't you!" Davy yelled.
"Well, all you do half the time is shake a few maracas and bang a tambourine against your leg," Mike scoffed. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to play guitar? Especially while you're trying to make sure they immature child standing next to you doesn't fall in love with half the audience!"
"Mike, leave him alone!" Peter pled. "Davy, no one thinks you're trivial. You're an important member of our group and we love you."
"Says the man who can't sing!" Davy spat back.
"Hey, leave him alone!" Micky said. "He's trying to talk some sense into both of you because you've both clearly lost it!"
"We have not lost it, Micky!" Mike barked. "You just can't handle taking responsibility around here! The only thing you can manage to do right is make a mess of everything you touch and goof off! You can't take anything seriously, can you!?" Peter turned to face Micky to try and comfort him, but Micky was now contorted in an expression of rage. For a brief second before, Peter thought he saw a flash of red light cross over his friend.
"Here's an idea: why don't you remove that pole from your backside and try to loosen up!" Micky exclaimed. Peter's heart sank; all three of his friends were yelling at each other. He felt so overwhelmed. Davy was yelling at Peter and Mike and calling them names he'd never heard before, but was sure they weren't nice at all; Micky was yelling at Mike and Davy and Mike was yelling at Micky and Davy, both yelling their own names and harsh words for each other. Peter was in the middle of it all and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep himself focused and centered.
"Guys, don't you see what's happening?" Peter pled on the verge of sobbing. "We're friends. We love each other. This is exactly what the Devil wants. We were told to stick together. Not to break our bond. Please listen to me!"
"Why should we listen to you?" Davy snapped. "It's not like you ever have anything intelligent to say!"
"Hey, don't be a jerk, Davy!" Micky said coming to Peter's defense. "At least he is trying! Unlike you two!"
"We're trying, Micky!" Mike yelled.
"Yeah, then how come Peter is the only one who went with me to the magic shop to try and find answers?!" Micky exclaimed.
"You did what!?" Mike boomed. "I specifically told you not to do that! I told you that you were going to get hurt!"
"Well, guess what, I didn't!" Micky yelled. "I don't need you to baby me! I know what I'm doing! And I don't take orders from you! You aren't the king around here!"
"Peter, why on earth would you go with him?" Davy yelled. "It's not safe out there anywhere and going into a place filled with magic is like painting a target on your back!"
"Not it's not!" Micky yelled. "You are both so paranoid! You had him so afraid of going out in the world that I had to convince him it was ok to go out on a date!"
"You're going out with someone!?" Davy exclaimed. "Are you that stupid!? Surely, even you aren't that stupid!"
"He's not stupid!" Micky snapped. "At least he has more sense to get to know a girl before running off and falling in love with her the second he sees her! That's what I call stupid!"
"No he just steals their portraits nearly getting us in trouble!" Davy snapped back.
"Oh, but that's better than nearly getting yourself killed, kidnapped, and turned into a freaking vampire over a girl!?" Mike scoffed.
"Yeah, all three of you were stupid enough to sign lifetime contracts at a dance studio and I had to bail you out!" Davy yelled.
"This coming from the man who didn't realize his boxing fights were being fixed?" Micky laughed. "You'd have to be dumber than a box of rocks to think you were actually knocking someone out by tapping them on the chin!"
"The man paints doors for crying out loud!" Davy exclaimed. "And you don't have any room to talk after being conned by that personal trainer!" Peter was finding it increasingly difficult to stay calm and to not take what his friends were saying personally. He shut his eyes and dropped to his knees trying to fight back more tears. He kept telling himself over and over again that this was the work of the Devil. The Devil was tearing his friends apart. Because of him. Because he was stupid enough to sign a contract without reading it over.
"Says the boy who was conned by an old lady after we tried to help you!" Mike snapped.
"You chained me to a freaking chair!" Davy snapped before pouncing back on Peter. "So who is it, Peter? That librarian? Or some complete stranger you both picked up off the street?"
"Who cares?!" Micky yelled. "He's actually going out in the world instead of shutting himself off like a freaking paranoid pyscho!"
"Peter, you really shouldn't be taking risks like that!" Mike yelled. "Who knows who she could be!?"
"You're going out with Michelle!" Micky snapped. "I don't see why you're special and he's not!"
"That's different!" Mike snapped.
"Only because you jumped all over Micky's leftovers!" Davy yelled.
"Don't talk about her like that!" Mike yelled.
"She is!" Davy snapped back. "You give me a hard time for being a love struck idiot, but I at least have the decency not to date my best mate's scraps!"
"She's not scrap!" Mike roared. "And Micky had to talk me into even talking to her!"
"I went out with her once, Davy!" Micky added. "She was never my girlfriend which makes her fair game for any of you!"
"Sure, whatever you say!" Davy yelled. "Not sure why anyone would even want to go out with someone Micky didn't even deem worthwhile!"
"That's it!" Mike growled and Peter heard a strange whistling sound followed by a yelp. He snapped his eyes open and saw that Mike had thrown the knife in Davy's direction. The room seemed still for a split second and Peter felt anger finally boil inside him. But he wasn't angry at Mike or Davy or Micky or even the Devil. He was angry at himself for letting things get this bad. He was angry at himself for being stupid enough to have dealt with the Devil and not known it. He was angry at himself for having let his friends sacrifice so much just to try and save him. He was angry at himself for letting his friends down.
The Devil stood outside the window of the Monkee's house. He was very pleased with his handiwork. He'd finally figured out how to set them all off. Davy had already been a ticking time bomb of guilt and boredom, so he was easy to manipulate into anger. All it took was a little magic to break his precious maracas and tambourine. The boys already pent up feelings snapped when he'd seen them and he of course took it out on his friends. The Devil had instructed his minion to bring Andras as the timing was finally right for their plan. Andras and the Devil had moved to the window in Davy's room and had seen the boy sitting on his bed. He had been angry at the broken instruments, but had also already started to calm down knowing his friends wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him. They had to strike in that second to keep Davy from pulling his feelings back in check. Andras infected him and a flash of red light covered the young boy just before Peter had come in.
Wanting to watch the events, but knowing they had to strike on the others first, they moved back to the kitchen window. The Devil snapped his fingers, and a dozen dirty dishes appeared in the sink. Just as he'd predicted, Mike got angry upon seeing them and turned on Micky. The Devil could tell he had been trying to stay calm, but knew he wouldn't be able to for long. He'd been worried for a moment that they had realized he'd broken the instruments, but soon found his plan was still going to work.
"Micky," Mike had asked. "What's this?"
"What's what?" Micky had answered looking confused.
"These dishes," Mike had answered. "I asked you to clean them up last night."
"I did," Micky had defended.
"Well, then how do you explain this?" Mike had asked while waving at the dishes and getting a little angrier thinking Micky had been lying to him.
"I don't know. All I know is they aren't mine."
"They sure look like what you used to make dinner last night."
"Did you see them when you made breakfast this morning? I swear I did the dishes last night."
"I wasn't paying attention this morning."
"Well, they weren't there this morning." This had been the perfect time for Andras to infect him with rage, too. Micky had his back turned so hadn't seen the red light flash over Mike as he became infected. He had been startled and frightened when Mike had grabbed the knife from the sink and begun advancing on him. The Devil took joy in watching everything else transpire, waiting for the right time to infect the other two. It didn't take long for Micky to get angry, even though Andras told him that the boy was fighting it. All it took was for someone to hurl an insult at Peter. Micky was protective and loyal and despite everything he'd been doing to fight it, he got angry. Then Andras had infected him, too.
It had taken Peter the longest, just as the Devil had suspected. He'd been fighting feelings of anger, but had finally succumbed like the rest once Mike had nearly killed Davy. He would have, too, if the Devil hadn't had the sense to divert the knife's path. He couldn't have them killing each other. Not yet. Not until they suffered more. And not until Peter had been infected with rage. Once Andras infected Peter, the fun had really started. And the Devil was there to watch it all transpire in maddening glee. He was winning.