Chapter 28- Let Me Do This For You

"Okay, fine…" Mike called out hesitantly. "Ahh Mary? Are you here? Mary, please answer me if you are..." No one said anything. After a moment of disappointing silence, out of nowhere a pen came flying out and struck Lizzy in the forehead.

"Ouch!" She yelped, rubbing the spot where it hit.

"Mary, stop that." Mike demanded.

"She cheated on my father!" A disembodied voice snarled. "And he," the pen flew and smacked Davy in the temple. "Was the one she hurt him with!"

"Mary, listen to me…your mother, Elizabeth, she passed away a long time ago, you know that. Your Uncle Arthur said that was years upon years ago." Mike said confidently. "The woman you think is your mother is my friend, Lizzy. She works at the library and that man is my friend Davy, not Victor, alright? Please quit tormenting them. They are not your mother and her lover."

"How can that be?" Mary's voice asked, puzzled.

"Listen Mary," Mike said, taking a deep breath. "As you can see, Lizzy and Davy look very much like your mother and Victor… but they were born after your mother and Victor died, after you died." He felt a weight settle on the foot of the hospital bed and he assumed that Mary's ghost had sat down.

"Now you have got to leave Davy and Lizzy alone, okay?"

"But… but… she cheated on Father..." The voice cried. "She married him after Father died, but she was in love with him before my father died!"

"I know Mary, I know, and what Elizabeth did was wrong… but you need to let it be, alright?" Mike continued, "I'm sure your father has let it go, so you need to let it go as well. Please..." When Mike didn't get an answer, he added, "For me?" A breath of air passed over Mike's face.

"Alright. For you, I will." And Mary was gone.

"Is she still here?" Lizzy asked, looking around.

"No, I do believe she is gone." Mike said as Davy let out a sigh of relief.

"Good," He said, "Because I don't fancy having a ghost attack me every time I want to give my girlfriend a kiss." He preceded to give Lizzy a kiss. Lizzy blushed and giggled. Micky wrinkled his nose.

"Davy is now really the time?" Mike asked as he shook his head slightly. Davy laughed.

"Now come on Michael, you have to admit, it lightens the mood." Davy smiled, throwing an arm around his new girlfriend. Mike wrinkled his nose, but smiled.

"Come on guys," Micky said, stretching. "I think it's about time we get home. That's enough excitement for one day, don't you think?"

"I would be okay if I had no more excitement for the rest of my life." Lizzy laughed nervously.

"I'm fine with that," Davy chimed in. "What do you think, Mike?" The whole room looked at Mike, expecting an answer. However, the Monkee was passed out.

"Poor guy." Maggie sighed.

Suddenly, he started shaking.

"Not again!" Micky yelped. "I said no more excitement, Mike!"

"Guys, get out!" Maggie ordered, flailing her arms, not one hundred percent sure what to do. "Someone get some nurses in here to help me." The other nodded and scrambled out of the room.

"What's wrong with him?" Peter asked, shutting the door behind him.

"I don't know! I thought he was going to be fine!" Micky rambled, running his hands through his hair.

"I'll go get a nurse." Davy offered, running off.

Lizzy walked over to Peter, who was now shaking himself. "Peter, he's going to be alright."

"When? When is he going to be alright?" Peter demanded, holding back tears. Davy returned with a doctor and two nurses behind him. The medical staff disappeared into the room while Davy stayed out in the hall. Maggie reemerged moments later, calm and composed.

"Well?" Davy asked, all of them expecting Maggie to give them good news.

"He's okay, we got him to calm down. He just needs a good night's rest." Maggie gave them all a small smile. "I think you lot better go on home. I'll let Michael know you guys went home to get some rest as well."

The three Monkees looked at one another, unsure whether to believe her. They really didn't want to leave Mike, especially if the suggestion was coming from someone who had broken Mike's heart before. However, Micky and Lizzy made the final call.

"I think we should go, guys." Lizzy said.

"I agree with her," Micky added, "She's more of an expert than we are, plus she's helped us with making sure Mike gets the proper treatment."

Maggie nodded, happy that they were on her side. "He will be in good hands, I promise." Davy and Peter looked doubtfully at Micky and Lizzy before nodding, giving in. Micky and Lizzy lead them out, leaving Maggie alone in the hall. She turned towards Mike's room and frowned. One of the nurses poked her head out from behind the door.

"Dr. Simms?"

"Yes?" Maggie asked, concerned with the tone of her voice.

"Can you… uh… Dr. Song wants to speak with you." The nurse said, opening the door further for her to come in. Maggie entered the room. Mike had stopped shaking, but was still out cold.

"What is it River?" Maggie asked, walking up to the doctor.

"I don't understand this, Maggie." Dr. Song said. "He's sweating like a pig, but his fever's fine. Something's wrong, but I just can't put my finger on it. We have gotten the shaking to stop, but he looks terrible. He looks terrible, but his vitals have actually improved since I last saw him."

"Really?" Maggie asked. She place a hand on Mike's forehead. It was drenched in sweat, but was a normal temperature. "Huh… that's odd."

"I really am not sure what to do at the moment, Maggie." Dr. Song pulled the hair tie from her hair and fixed her hair. "What is your opinion?"

"I think we should let him rest. Someone should keep an eye on him, though. I don't want him accidentally dying on us. His friends would not like that."

"No one likes people dying, Maggie. It's just life. I can check in on him later, I know you have other patients to attend to."

"Right," Maggie sighed. Dr. Song, Maggie, and the nurses left the room, leaving Mike to rest.

All he could hear was the wailing of a child. Mike grabbed his ears to try and muffle the noise, but it did no good. It was as if the screaming was in his head. He was surrounded by darkness once again, but by this point he was not bothered. In the back of his mind, he found another voice under all of the crying. Mike tried to figure out what it was saying, and it took him several moments to decipher it.

"Michael…" The voice yelled. "Michael, you're ill, let me help." Mike couldn't figure out who the voice belonged to. It wasn't any of his band mates, and it wasn't any of the girls. It was foreign to him.

"Will you stop this screaming?" Mike yelled to the voice.

"Of course. She's screaming because of me." The voice replied. "Let me take care of her. You need to sleep."

"Sleep, right." Mike said. He suddenly found himself extremely drowsy. Willingly, he laid himself down and closed his eyes. He could still hear the little girl's crying clear as day, but that didn't matter. More and more he drifted off into an unwilling sleep.

Dr. Song walked passed room 208, her patient clipboard in her hand. It had been hours since she was in that room, so she decided to check up on the poor man her colleague cherished so much. Quietly she opened the door, stepping into the room. With her first step the patient groaned. Surprised, she shut the door and walked over to the inert man. "Mr. Nesmith?" She asked. The man groaned again. Dr. Song sat down on the bed and took Mr. Nesmith's hand. "Mr. Nesmith, can you hear me?"

"Uh… yeah…" The patient groaned. Slowly he opened one eye, looking up at the doctor. "Who are you?"

"My name is Dr. Song, I will be looking after you during your stay here."

"Where's here?" The patient asked.

"The hospital. You're in Malibu, California, Mr. Nesmith."

"Mr… oh… okay. Thank you, doctor." The patient smiled at her.

"Do you feel up to a check up, Mr. Nesmith?" Dr. Song asked.

"Sure." The patient said, trying to sit up. Dr. Song helped him sit up and began her routine check up on the patient.

"Right, first off, tell me your full name."

"Uh, Robert Michael Nesmith." The patient smiled at her.

"Next, what is your date of birth?"

Michael didn't reply for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he replied. "December 31, 1942."

Dr. Song wrote something down on her clipboard. "How old are you, Mr. Nesmith?"

"Twenty-six?" Michael asked. Dr. Song continued to write, continuing the check up, her mind scrambling to make a diagnosis.

After she finished the check up, she dismissed herself and walked out into the hall. As she closed the door, Maggie rushed up to her. "Well?" She asked eagerly.

"Physically, his health is improving. His memory however…" Dr. Song handed Maggie the clipboard. Maggie looked it over, her face falling.

"He couldn't remember his birthday or his age?" Maggie asked, astonished by the news. She handed the clipboard to Dr. Song and made her way towards the door. Dr. Song stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"Now right now. He's asleep and I don't want him to be disturbed or affected by any public source. I'm sure you understand." Dr. Song let go of her wrist. "I plan on checking up on him later. Don't go into that room, Ms. Simms. I know how attached you are."

"Of course, River." Maggie nodded, beginning to walk away. Dr. Song did the same. When Maggie knew the good doctor was out of earshot, she slid into Michael's room, quietly shutting the door behind her.