Peter stayed sitting on the couch for a while trying to get himself under control.
He felt highly emotional.
Micky didn't hate him but he'd run.

Oh course he had. What did Peter expect? Peter had felt like running himself.

Things were real now. The cat was out of the bag…for both of them.
His intention had been to tell Micky the truth and hope he didn't hate him. That was all.
He hadn't expected things to suddenly develop. To suddenly become so real.

And it was real. It was.

Last night he'd felt so confident after leaving Ty's. He'd had faith that these feeling would just blow over.
But Micky's reaction said otherwise.
The fear on his face
The inner battle he'd seen in his eyes
The denial.
The way he'd cried.
Shit…the way Peter himself had cried.
The fact that he'd run…
The only explanation was that deep down they both knew how real it was and it scared the shit out of them.

But why did they have to be so afraid? What was so scary about it?
Was it because it was wrong?

But why was it wrong?
What made it wrong?

That it wasn't natural?
That they couldn't procreate?

Well so the hell what! They weren't hurting anyone. Why did it matter?

Because society thought it mattered?
It was just so ingrained?
It seemed ironic though because men had been fucking other men for thousands of years, all over the world….and it used to be accepted.
Not just accepted but common practice.

So what had changed?
The times, society…
religion maybe?
God said it was evil…
He said it was a sin.
Peter wasn't going to argue with God….even though he didn't particularly believe in him.

But even if it was a sin, it was just a sin….nothing more.
It was no worse than anything else people did on a daily basis that nobody gave two fucks about.

So really, they shouldn't be so afraid.
Like he'd been thinking last night…it's was just love.
Love wasn't dark or evil…

God he felt anxious.

.

He finally got off the couch and headed for the bedroom. He grabbed his bag of weed and filled his pipe. He smoked a bowl and then he smoked another. He smoked until his anxiety was gone and then he smoked the little he had left.

He released his mind.
…And tried to think about love.

Micky wanted to drink but he found himself walking towards the beach instead .
He got to Millie's and headed for his rock.
The tide was just going out. He climbed on top of it and watched the water with unease.

Fucking tide wasn't going to take him.
He was just here to say goodbye.

He laid down on the rock. The sky was filled with cirrostratus clouds. He watched them for a while.
His mind wondered.

What have I gotten myself into?

God… everything used to be so simple.
He'd had his friends.
He'd had his band.
His girl.
That was that.
He knew his role.
The biggest worry he'd had was trying to figure out how he could cram band practice, sex and a night a carousing into one day and still be able to sleep in late.

But now he didn't know his role anymore. He didn't know his place in the world. He didn't know how the people closest to him fit into his life.
Who were they anyway? The people who he once knew so clearly. So certainly.

Lin?
It was like she didn't even exist.

And Ty?
His angel?…their relationship had grown so complicated over the last couple months.
Who was she to him?
Certainly not Peter's girlfriend…
or Lin's roommate.
She was certainly not just a friend.
He knew that he loved her.
He knew that he shouldn't.
…He also knew she probably hated him now…

And what about Mike and Davy?
He'd grown so distant from them. It was like they were strangers. He'd treated them so badly. They probably hated him too…

And then…then, there was the Man of the Hour.
The man who was at the heart of it all… the heart of Micky.

… Pete.
His band mate, his roommate, his best friend.
Was he about to add lover to the list?

So Pete …Pete had a thing for him, then.
That was funny wasn't it?
That was fucking hilarious…and the timing?
The day after Micky had attacked him in his bed.
The day after he had obliterated the line he had been trying so hard not to cross.

But the thing was…now he suddenly wanted to cross it.
Actually he wanted to race back home right now and…
and what?
Make him your lover?

His stomach dropped.
No…that couldn't really be what he wanted.
It just couldn't.
He'd finally started to feel like a man again with Ty.
Remember how she gave you your balls back?
And now…what ? You just want to hand them over to Peter?

Oh god…..
no.
No!
He didn't. He couldn't.
He had to be a man.

Oh…but that touch. -That rush -That fire.
Don't you want that again?
Micky bit his bottom lip. Yes he did.

But at what expense?
If he did this…
If he gave in to this...
How could he ever respect himself again?
How could he look himself in the mirror and see anything but a queer?

So are you just going to ignore these feelings?
Pretend they don't exist?
You know that if you do, it will eat you up…
Kill something inside.

But you already have experience with that, don't you?
It's been killing you this whole time.
You're practically dead.

No, I'm not! I'm not dead! I'm still alive!

Barely.

Barely?! Why are you saying that?

Because it's true!
Look at what your life has become.
Look at what you have been doing to yourself!

No! I'm not doing this to myself! Why are you accusing me?

Accusing you? How can I accuse you?
I'm you!

Micky was stunned.
Me?

He sat up and looked at the ocean again.

The tide.

He suddenly understood what it was.
It was the face for all of his demons. It was his arch enemy. It was the devil.
It was every problem he ever had.
It was his loss of control
It was the spirit Lin had taken from him.
His denial
His high strung emotions
His confusion
His fear.
It held him back.
It repressed him.
And it was him!

The tide from his dream…was him.

It had tried to kill him.
It had almost succeeded. He'd been too weak to take it on alone.
But the light.
In his dream, the light had saved him.

But this wasn't his dream.
Would the light still save him?
Could it save him?
Would he let it?

Pete! He had to get back.
He needed Peter. He needed Peter to set him straight. To tell him it was ok.
That these feelings were ok.
He needed Peter to save him from himself…

Mike and Davy had returned.

Peter was lying on the couch in a stoned stupor. He barely realized they were there.

After a while Mike sat down on the couch arm. "Hey what planet are you on man?"

"Huh?" Peter squinted up at Mike.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you have been in that exact same position, looking at that exact same spot on the ceiling for about half an hour now. I don't think I even saw you blink."

"Oh." Peter sat up and rubbed his eyes. Yeah they felt a little dry. "Sorry I'm just kind of out of it I guess."

"Out of it?…No, like I said, you're on another planet. Now I want to know which one it is."

"Um…" Peter thought hard. "Shit Mike, I don't know. I kind of feel more like I'm on a moon than a planet though…Maybe Titan?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "And how is it?"

"Kind of cold…kind of cloudy."

Mike laughed. "Seriously, what did you smoke and can I have some?"

"It was just this stuff from Lin. I'm out though."

"Bummer." Mike said and stood up. "After today, I really need to get high."

"After today?" Then Peter remembered. "Yeah that's right. What's the deal with you pulling us from Spirit?"

Mike scratched his head. "Well, Peter… I thought that Micky quit."

"Yeah, but I was going to talk to him again."

"Did you?"

"Um…" Suddenly Peter remembered their last encounter. He felt a knot form in his stomach as the anxiety came back. He ignored it and forced the memory to the back of his mind. "Uh…no, I didn't."

"Well… I mean we have two weeks. We can't leave Chris hanging. He has to fill our spot if we can't make it. Besides it's not for good. It's just this time around."

"Yeah but do you know how hard it will be to get that spot back?"

"Yeah, that's why I personally went over there. He assured me."

"Yeah but I think we can still pull it off."

Davy walked into the living room and stood by the wooden Indian. "How?" He asked.

"I don't know…but we could. Micky will come around… or we can get a temp?"

"A temp can't learn all our songs in two weeks."

"Why not? I could."

"Yeah, Peter but you're a freak." Mike cut in.

"Well, what about Davy?"

"Yeah, Davy's a freak too."

"What about me?" Davy asked ignoring Mike.

"You know the songs."

"Yeah I do…but not like Micky…..besides, who would play the tambourine?"

Mike and Peter looked at each other and tried not to laugh.

"I'm sure we could find someone." Mike said.

"Well, I think we'll sound like shit."

"No we won't sound like shit…maybe we won't sound great."

"We'll sound fine." Peter said.

Mike stood there indecisively looking from Peter to Davy. "Alright, I'll call him." He said as he went into the kitchen to use the phone.

Davy sat down on the far end of the couch. "So, what? I gotta learn all these songs now? You know how much pressure that is?"

"You already know them." Peter said, annoyed.

"Yeah but how would you like it if you had to be the one to switch instruments?"

"Switch instruments? Davy who are you talking to?"

"Right…yeah ok...bad argument..but, still…"

"What? Do you want me to play drums? I will. But you'll have to play my bass then."

"I can play bass."

"I know you can. Is that what you want?"

Davy rubbed his forehead. "No."

"Ok, how about this. How about Mike plays the drums and you play guitar. I'll play a tuba, maybe…we'll really change it up and we could get one of those cute street peddling monkeys to play bass for me. How about that?"

Davy was about to comment but Mike came out of the kitchen. "Well that was close." He walked into the living room. "He was just getting ready to call the Foreign Agents when I called. And you know they've been chompin' at the bit for this gig. I'm guessing they would make a stink about having to give it up in 3 months."

"Yeah no kidding…well that's good news." Peter shifted. "So Mike you want to play drums?"

Davy cast an annoyed glance in Peter's direction.

"What? I thought we already had this figured out."

"Yeah we do." Davy said. "Peter's being a smart ass."

"Oh." Mike turned and went back to the kitchen, opting out of the conversation. He began rummaging through the dishes. "So I think I'm going to make burgers. Does that sound good?"

He got an affirmative from both of them.

Davy looked back at Peter. "You're real funny aren't you?"

Peter grinned. "What if the cute little monkey played the tambourine instead?"

Davy threw a couch pillow at Peter but began laughing in spite of himself. "That would be cute wouldn't it?"

.

That was when Micky came in the back door. He had been sitting on the porch steps as a battle waged in his mind. He'd headed home with a purpose. But the closer he'd gotten to the pad the more obscure that purpose had gotten.

He quietly walked into the living room. Nobody noticed him.
He looked around. Peter was imitating a monkey and Davy was in hysterics.

Peter. He needed to talk to him… but the tide was back. The fear.
It was stopping him.
He couldn't do it.

Instead he sat down in the recliner. "Hey guys." He said quietly.

Peter and Davy both jumped. Peter's face morphed from the stupid monkey to surprise and then to apprehension all in a matter of seconds.

"Hey Mick." Peter said.

Everything suddenly grew serious. Even Davy seemed to notice the tension.

As Peter looked at him, Micky could once again see himself in Peter's eyes. He saw everything he was feeling.
Yet, there was also some sort of peace there that he didn't understand.
He cleared the image. "So what are you guys doing?" He asked in an attempt to restore normalcy and hide anything his face might have given away.

"Nothing Micky." Peter's gaze seemed to be looking into his soul.

Micky looked away.

"Actually, we were tryin' to figure out who's gonna play drums now that you bailed on us." Davy said letting his discontentment be known. "So you went an' quit the band, huh?"

Micky glanced sideways at him and nodded slightly.

"That's really great Micky. You know…that's just really great. What a great thing for you to do."

Micky needed help. He looked to Peter but Peter was now just stared blankly at him.
He went on the defense. "It's not like I wanted to. It's just that…I mean you guys were going to kick me out anyway."

"We weren't going to kick you out." Mike had come in from the kitchen.

Micky turned his head so he could see him. "You want to replace me."

"We can't replace you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?!"

"You could replace me. You should replace me."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because? What are we, five? Because why?"

"Because I'll end up fucking you guys over. You can't count on me. You can't trust me. I can't trust me."

"Yeah well maybe that's because you have your head up your ass and a bottle in your hand 24 hours a day. I wouldn't trust me either. Are you trying to kill yourself Micky? Is that what's going on?

Micky's eyes grew wide. He shook his head. "No." He croaked out.

"No? Then what are you doing? What the fuck are you doing? What's wrong with you?"

Micky looked at Peter. Peter wouldn't meet his eyes. "You just don't know what's going on." He said in a near whisper.

"Yeah I don't. So what the fuck is going on? Maybe you…or Peter would like to enlighten me…enlighten us." He gestured toward Davy.

Peter finally looked up at Micky. Micky saw what looked like resignation in his face. Micky bit his lip and shook his head at Peter. There was no way he was telling them. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"You know I pulled us out of Spirit today?" Mike seemingly changed course.

Micky looked up sharply. "Why would you do that?"

"Well Mick, we don't have a drummer. It's going to awfully difficult to play without a drummer.

"So get a fucking drummer!"

"Why can't you just do it? Why can't you just get your act together? Get help if you need it. Go to therapy for all I care but get your head out of your ass and play the fucking drums!"

Micky shook his head and got up. "Fuck you Mike!" He yelled before heading for the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

Mike let out a loud exhale. "Fuck." he growled.

"Jesus Mike, what are you thinking?" Peter said. "You shouldn't push him like that."

"Yeah maybe not. Or maybe that's exactly what he needs."

Peter stood up. "You don't know that." He walked towards the bedroom himself.

.

He knocked lightly and entered. Micky was sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. His knees were pulled up to his chin.

"Hey Mick." Peter sat on Micky's bed facing him. "Look, Mike's just being an asshole, ok? But it's because he cares. He's just trying to get through is all."

"Pete, it's not like I want this ok! I want to play!"

"Fuck Micky! So play."

"No, I can't."

"'Cause you don't want to screw us over?…Well, I hate to tell you this, but you're already screwing us over pretty good, man."

"I know." Micky dropped his head to his knees. "I can't believe he pulled you."

"He didn't."

Micky looked up, confused.

"Well he did. He did pull us but we're back in. Davy's gonna fill in for you."

"Davy?" Micky looked skeptical.

"Yeah, why not? He's a decent drummer."

Micky nodded slightly. "So you're not gonna bring anybody else in?"

"No."

Micky nodded again.

"Man why don't you just play and if you flake or freak or whatever you're afraid you'll do, then Davy will take your place. We'd be no worse off than we are now."

Micky searched Peter's eyes.
He suddenly leaned forward and kissed him.
Just as quickly he drew back.

Peter didn't move.

They stared at each other for a few seconds.
Then Micky stood up with his back to Peter.
Peter remained quiet.

"Pete… I need your help." He sounded scared. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I need you to save me."

Peter stood and walked up behind Micky. He laid his hand on his shoulder. "What do you need?" He whispered.

Micky turned to face him.
The tears were back in his eyes.

"You…" His voice was hoarse. "I need you…I think."

.

Peter's was dazed.

As he looked into Micky's wet eyes; eyes that now seemed so open to him…so vulnerable…so clear, he suddenly had a clear understanding.
They were going to give in.
They were going to do this.
All of their doubts, their fears, all of their denial…none of it mattered.
This…
this was what mattered.
This feeling.
This need.
This love.

He nodded slowly and brought his hands up to the sides of Micky's face.

"I need you too." He kissed him softly.

...

They kissed forever…it was sweet.
It was innocent. Beautiful.

And when they stopped kissing each other they held each other instead.
They didn't know how long they stayed that way.

All they thought was, finally…

Finally.