*Hey folks! I missed you guys. I'm so sorry for my delay, life's been hectic and busy and I haven't had as much time as I've wanted to write things. Just between school, work, and I was just in a play. I'll try and get back into writing because I do really enjoy these stories and I hope you enjoy this, even if it's delayed. I have a lot of stuff planned for this one and for many of my other works, so just keep a look out for that, even if I'm not able to post things as frequently anymore :)

And to Petty LaBelle: ask, and you shall receive. I hope you guys enjoy this new part. Peace and love, Lackluster*

Frankly, Mike didn't know where to start. Oftentimes, he'd be the one who was able to find the way out. He was the leader of the group, after all. It was his job to do so but this time, Mike truly didn't know what he was going to do. He simply stared up at the clock, a feeling of absolute dread building up inside of him as the clock seemed to shake the house with every second.

Suddenly sharp pain in his ears caused him to collapse, putting his hands over his head, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry," he heard a voice, almost hidden by the static in his head. "Let me try that again."

Once again, there was a ringing and static, until it all went silent.

"Hello?"

Mike opened his eyes and slowly removed his hands over his head, making it back to his feet.

"Micky?" He asked, now hearing the voice clearly and able to recognize it.

From the other side, Micky smiled wide and sat down with the radio.

"Finally," he said. "I found the right channel. Are you okay?"

Mike groaned, rubbing his forehead as he made his way toward the couch, flopping down onto his stomach.

"My head hurts," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes as he began rubbing his forehead. He wasn't all that surprised since there was no doubt in Mike's mind that Micky was standing right there. He wasn't even aware that Micky was in another world entirely.

"Well, I'm sorry," Micky said into the radio, already knowing that he was the cause of Mike's headache. It was exhausting to try and contact him during the day, a task he had tried but failed to do before. "I'll try and make this quick for you, okay?"

Mike groaned but nodded. Micky sighed and closed his eyes, turning the volume down slightly.

"Look," he said in a low voice. "I have to make this quick-"

"Micky!" Another voice called out and Mike could hear Micky sigh.

"Davy, can it wait? This is important."

"So is helping Peter, isn't it?"

Mike frowned and closed his eyes, shifting around on the couch slightly as he tried to find a more comfortable position.

"Well, Peter can wait," Micky sighed again. "He's waited for so long already, waiting another five minutes won't hurt him."

There was a long pause of silence on the other end as Davy glared at Micky, about ready to strike or snap back. But instead, he pushed past Micky and grabbed his box of tools.

"Excuse me for a moment," Micky said into the radio, before quickly turning it all the way down and rushing to Davy.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" He asked and Davy shrugged, going to the restroom where Peter was sitting on the floor. He kept his eyes closed, seemingly aware of what Davy was going to do, but not wanting to see any of it.

"At least I'm trying to help," he said, sitting across from Peter and opening up the tool box. He pulled out a hammer and a wrench. "He said his head hurt, so I'm gonna help him."

Eventually Davy turned up and looked at him, an almost hateful expression on his face.

"What would you have me do?" He asked. "Please, tell me."

It was Micky's turn to be silent. He stared down at both of them for a long time before shaking his head, turning away.

"I don't have the time for this…" he muttered under his breath as he made it back into the living room, sitting by the radio.

"Mike?" He asked, turning it back up. "Are you there? Are you okay?"

Mike hummed and nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"You need to stay awake," Micky pleaded. "After it's over, then you can rest. But not now."

"Okay," Mike sighed, rubbing his eyes awake. "What is it?"

Micky hesitated for a long moment before he leaned in as closely as he possibly could to speak.

"It's Zero."

And all of a sudden, there was a crash of thunder and the clock began to ring, causing Mike to jump up and look around wildly.

"SHIT!" He heard Davy's voice over the sound of the clock. He groaned and rubbed his head as Micky went over to tend to Davy, Mike hearing the entire conversation through the radio.

"He's not supposed to be here this early!" It sounded like Davy was almost crying. "What's he doing here?"

"You shouldn't have brought Peter here, Davy," Micky said harshly. "This is all your fault. That's why he's here now."

"Oh, please," Davy rolled his eyes, grabbing a towel to wipe off Peter's face. "At least Peter's alive and well, oh no, how awful. Oh I'm so mean."

"Yeah, well, why do you think he's been coming here more often, hmm?" Micky scoffed. "We can't hide him here."

Davy looked up at him, pure anger and hatred in his expression as he stood up.

"Watch me," he challenged before storming off to the living room to get to the radio.

"Mike?" He asked into it, turning up the volume. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Mike said quickly with a groan, rubbing his forehead. "Don't need to yell, I can hear ya fine."

"Look, we have to go now," he said quickly, panic evident in his voice. "Including you."

Mike frowned and looked around, genuinely surprised when he didn't see Davy standing right there beside him.

"Get out of the house," he said.

"But where—?"

"Go anywhere before he comes here. Do you understand?"

"I—"

"Do you understand?" Davy asked again and Mike could tell this time that he was crying.

He didn't know what to say. He didn't understand but simply nodded and said okay, heading outside despite the sudden brewing storm around him.