Mike spent his time sitting by the radio, occasionally turning the dials to try and hear anything. All there was was static.

He let out a sigh and looked up at the clock. 2:00. Davy had been gone for only about 12 minutes, but it felt much longer.

He jumped up and began pacing around the room, unable to sit still. He was never able to sit still when he knew something was wrong, especially when it involved his friends. He stopped in the middle of his tracks when suddenly.

Knock knock knock.

"Helloo-oo?" Micky's voice asked as he opened up the front door. "I brought something for you."

He came in and instantly froze, eyes widening when he saw Mike standing there.

"Mike?" Micky asked in a whisper. "What're you doing here?"

Mike shrugged. He didn't even know the answer to that.

"Davy just left," he said, standing up and going to Micky. "Are you alright?"

Tears were now filling in Micky's eyes as he nodded.

"I-I'm okay," he said shakily. "Just got back from the library."

He set his bag down and looked at Mike for a moment before racing to him, grabbing the bag again.

"Hey, Mike?" He asked quickly. "C-can I ask you an honest question? Please?"

Mike frowned and nodded, noticing that something was clearly bothering him.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Of course. What's up?"

Micky pulled out a beaten up book from the leather bag, flipping open to a certain page and handing it to Mike.

On it was a handwritten note in Mike's own handwriting.

"And Micky," it read. "What is there to say about Micky? He's a child. Immature and dependent and I'm the one often having to take care of him. I don't know if he can take care of himself, even if he tried. He probably wouldn't be able to live if I wasn't there to keep him out of trouble."

Mike frowned, putting the book down. It seemed absolutely absurd to him, but from the expression on Micky's face, he actually believed every word of it.

"Did you write that?" Micky asked, taking the book back.

"Of course not, Micky," Mike scoffed. "Why would I ever write anything like that?"

Micky shrugged and looked down.

"You said I was too wild for you when we first met…and it's your handwriting so I thought..." he said under his breath and Mike rolled his eyes.

"That was because I didn't know you that well. You're my friend, and I don't care if it looks like I did, I didn't write that. I'd never write anything like that about you," Mike explained and Micky nodded, keeping his head down.

"There were more," he said quietly, putting the book back in his bag, a slight tremble in his voice. "A-a lot more, I just wasn't allowed to bring everything here."

"Well, that wasn't me," Mike sighed. "I don't know what else to say to that."

Micky nodded again, now looking around the Pad and turning on the light.

"Where's Davy?"

"He just left," Mike said, turning to face him. "I don't know when he'll be back…he had to go work, I think."

Micky frowned and looked at him, confused and horrified.

"But Davy's free now," he said quietly. "We all are. At least until the clock rings."

"It rang before he had to go?" He suggested, hoping that might explain everything. Micky sighed.

"I mean, the last time it rings, then we're gone," he explained, looking around him. "We should be free now, I thought. That's why I'm here."

Mike shrugged, unsure of what to say to that.

"He said he had to work," he answered and Micky sighed and sat at the table, hiding his head in his hands.

"I don't know what to do with that kid…" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"Did you know that Davy chooses to work?" Micky asked, looking at him. "He had to at first, and now he doesn't have to anymore but he chooses to go back there all the time."

Mike frowned, head cocked slightly to the side in confusion. Micky let out a sigh, remembering that Mike knew nothing.

"It was a punishment," he explained. "We got in trouble for contacting you first and our punishment was that we had to work."

Mike nodded slowly.

"Okay…" he said, not knowing if he was still understanding it all.

"I had to work in the library, Davy had to work in the factory," he continued. "God, who knows where Peter had to work, but I don't even want to imagine it. Can't imagine it was pretty."

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"But the punishment's over, Davy's still working in the factory by choice. Just because he thinks it would save your ass."

"Why would he do that?" Mike frowned, still not understanding how anyone could put themselves through that, especially for him.

Micky sighed, trying to find the best way to phrase it. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down.

"Because you'll be dead if we don't work…a-and even through it all, even if you...I don't know if I could live with myself if I knew I had the chance to save you and failed."