"Mr. Nesmith, you decent?" Dr. Harrisons voice said as he poked his head in.

"Okay, let's get you on the gurney here and we'll take you down and get a CT scan."

Mike looked at Micky nervously. Micky smiled at him and gently squeezed his hand three times, knowing it was something Peter would do whenever Mike was stressed. Mike frowned and looked down at their hands.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Something you and Peter do." Micky said "I have no clue what it means, but he squeezes your hand three times every once in a while."

Mike frowned and concentrated, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. It felt natural and familiar, but he wasn't sure why.

"Okay," he said, pulling his hand back.

"You ready to go?"

Mike sighed and nodded.

"I guess."

"Okay." Dr. Harrison said as he started to wheel him down the hall.

"Micky." Mike said as panic set in when Micky was gone.

"Hey I'm right here babe, it's okay." Micky said hurrying to catch up to them. "I had to tell Davy and Peter what was going on."

"Oh," Mike said.

"Mr. Nesmith, if you're nervous, I can give you a light sedative to take the edge off." Dr. Harrison said.

"Take the edge off?" Mike repeated nervously, looking at Micky and silently asking what he should do.

"It's up to you, Mike," Micky smiled. "I don't know if I'd be allowed to stay so maybe it might help." Mike looked at him and grabbed his hand.

"I-I don't want y-you to g-go." He choked out.

"Shh," Micky whispered "I'm not going anywhere, but I might not be allowed to be in the room while you're in there okay. So if you want to you can take the sedative. No one will judge you." Mike looked at him and nodded once.

"Ok." He whispered. Micky smiled.

"You're gonna be okay, Mike." Mike gave a weak smile back as Dr. Harrison took his right arm.

"Micky," Mike whined, "I hate needles."

"Look at me Mike. Don't look at it, look right at me." Micky said. Mike looked at Micky as Micky ran his hand through Mikes hair.

"You're doin' good Mike." Micky said 'there see, all done."

Mike nodded slightly, already much calmer from the medicine.

"It's okay," Micky smiled. "And I'm gonna be right out here the whole time, don't worry."

Mike frowned at him but nodded again as they wheeled him to the room. He felt funny. He couldn't really put his finger on what it was but for some reason it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He felt tired. He blinked and the next thing he knew Micky was looking at him smiling.

"Hey," Micky said. "How do you feel?"

"Weird…" Mike groaned, trying to sit up, only to be pushed back down by three pairs of hands.

"The medicine's still wearing off," a British voice said. "You'll still feel woozy for a little while."

Mike frowned. The voice sounded similar, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't place who it was.

"Good news though," another voice said. "You're all done."

"Okay," Mike yawned. "Can I sleep now?"

"Yeah," the British voice said, "You can sleep for a bit while we wait for your results."

"For what?" Mike asked.

"Your CT scan." The other voice said.

"Oh, when did I have that?" Mike asked. Micky chuckled.

"About ten minutes ago." He said.

"Oh." Mike answered.

"Get some sleep Mike." the other voice said. Mike hummed again and drifted. He was woken up again by someone shaking him. He opened his eyes to glare at the person only to be greeted by Micky.

"Hey Mike," Micky said "Your CT looks good, a bit of swelling, that's why you can't remember some stuff, but it'll go down in a few days. In the meantime, you can come home and rest. Sound good?"

"Hmm, yeah." Mike said.

"Okay, let's get you up and into the wheelchair okay." Micky said as he helped Mike sit up slowly.

"Hmm, tired." Mike slurred.

"I know, we'll get you home so you can rest okay." Micky said. He helped Mike get back into his street clothing and into the wheelchair. Mike leaned his head back as someone pushed it out the door and down the hallway.

"Are you feeling better Michael?" A voice asked. Mike opened his eyes, he didn't even realize he closed them, and looked up. A blond haired guy smiled at him with a dimpled grin.

"Hmm, I'm tired." Mike answered.

"That's okay," the blond said "we'll get you home and you can sleep." Mike hmmed again as the wheelchair stopped and he felt hands on him.

"Hey Mike," the british voice said "wake up, I know your-"

"Move Davy," Micky's voice said and Mike felt himself being picked up and carried somewhere. He was just so tired that he didn't care where they were going just as long as he could get some sleep. The last thing he remembered was Micky's voice saying

"Guys Mike thinks it's 1965."