"Hi!" A chipper voice greeted Mike in the morning. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," he groaned at the stranger. She smiled and handed him a mug.

"Made you some coffee."

"Thanks?"

He didn't know whether to thank her or kick her out of his house. She seemed to notice what he was thinking about because she wiped her hand on her skirt and held it out to him.

"I'm Molly, by the way," she smiled. "We've never really had a proper introduction."

"Mike," he said, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"I've heard a lot about you, you know? Those boys really love you. Micky, Davy, and Peter, I mean."

Mike nodded but still wasn't very pleased with her here.

"I'm sorry, but do we know each other?"

"Yes and no," she said with a slight shrug. "You and I have never exactly met, but I know about you. The boys talk about you all the time."

"How do you know...?"

"Your brothers?" She smiled, blushing lightly. "Well, I've actually been going with Davy for a little while."

"Oh, yeah? How long?" Mike asked, unamused. This wasn't exactly the first time he's ever heard that before.

"Almost 5 months."

That was the part that surprised him. Davy was known to bring girls over every few days, saying "she's the only one for me," until he found someone new. This same Davy stayed with her for 5 months. Wow.

"How did I miss this?" He asked, more impressed and proud than upset.

"Uh...I don't know if you know this, but you had a lot going on at that time, Mike." Molly cringed as she said that. Mike frowned, waiting for her to elaborate what she meant, but shrugged it off when she didn't.

"Oh!" She said suddenly, pointing up. "Before I forget, Peter and Micky are gone. Davy had to go a little bit earlier, too."

"Gone?" Mike asked, eyes widening. He could feel the room close in a little bit tighter on him.

"No, no, no! It's not like that," Molly smiled. "Micky and Peter just went to work. Davy actually didn't tell me where he was going, just that he had to run a few errands."

He nodded, shakily, unsure of what she was talking about.

She nodded again, looking down as she thought of something to say.

"Well, I'll be here in the meantime if you need anything."

Mike sat down on the couch with his coffee and she got back to work in the kitchen, preparing something special for when the other Monkees came home.

*20 minutes later*

Mike frowned and stood, beginning to wander aimlessly around the pad.

"Is everything alright?" Molly asked, following him from a distance.

"Fine," he said, squinting at the headache forming. "Micky? Davy? Peter?"

He called out their names but got no response.

"Guys?!"

She could see he was becoming stressed and wasted no time before jumping in.

"Mike? Mike?"

"What? What?"

"They had to go," she frowned. Didn't she tell him that?

"Go...?"

"Yes, Peter and Micky, to work. And Davy had to make a few errands. But they'll be back, okay? Don't worry, they'll be back."

He frowned, his headache was back.

"Work?" Mike was surprised and proud when he heard that Peter and Micky were working. Though his headache kept him from feeling those things.

"It's Wednesday," she said with a sigh. "They both have to work on Wednesdays."

"Oh," how had Mike missed this? "How long?"

"Until they get back? Peter gets off at 3, and Micky, I think about 7-ish?" She shrugged and sat down. "I don't know the exact time, but it's not until later in the evening."

He nodded and sat on the windowsill, unsure of what to think. He didn't believe that they were at "work". None of the Monkees, not even Mike, were able to keep day jobs. Something always went wrong. It's a cover, he thought to himself, a cover for something bigger. They've either really left or want you to think that they've really left because there's something more going on. Either way, you're the fool.

"Hey," Molly said quietly, noticing how stressed he had become. "Are you alright?"

Mike squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head against the window hard.

"Mike, don't do that. Please. Mike!"

But he didn't listen, Mike kept banging his head on the window, again and again, only stopping when the glass cracked and a line of blood trickled down his forehead. He let out a choked sob. He rubbed his hand on his forehead to soothe the pounding headache but flinched in pain when he felt the bloody bruise.

"Mike...?" Molly approached him hesitantly. She knelt down beside him, unsure of what to do. "Mike, what's wrong?"

He stared at her with tears filling his eyes but didn't speak. After a moment, he shook his head and placed it carefully in the center of where he had created a dent in the glass.

"Can you even hear me right now...?"

Silence.

"Mike?" Molly tried again. He whispered something to himself and shook his head.

"What was that?" She asked gently and scooted in a little closer to listen. It was incoherent gibberish, but there was one word that she could clearly make out.

"Peter?"

"Peter?!" He cried out, and his head shot up, looking everywhere for the bassist. "Peter?!"

"Mike? Mike!" She said sternly, finally getting his attention.

"Just breathe, Mike, it's okay." He took a deep breath which calmed him a little. But not by much.

"Peter's not here right now," Molly said gently, and his eyes filled with terror. "He had to go to work. But he'll be back in a few hours, okay? He hasn't left you."

He frowned at her, not understanding a word.

"He'll be back, okay?"

Mike looked down and thought about it, trembling slightly. He shook his head and sighed sadly.

"What is it?" She asked, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He tensed up and recoiled from the touch, nervously rambling again, running his hands through his hair.

"Ow," he muttered when he brushed against the bruise again. He froze and stared in awe when he noticed his bloody hand.

Molly closed her eyes and sighed, unsure of the right way to help him.

"Hey, Mike? Are you there?" She smiled and turned her head to be in his periphery. Once he noticed her, he looked up with wide eyes. "Hi, Mike. Can you hear me?"

He nodded slowly.

"Okay," she smiled and stood up. "I'm gonna go call Peter and see if he can come here. Do you like that?"

Mike frowned as he thought about it, still not saying anything.

"I'm gonna take your silence as a yes."

He turned his head to the side slightly, still confused.

"Mike, do you want Peter to come over here?" She asked again.

After a moment, he nodded hesitantly.

"Okay."

She went to the kitchen and sat by the phone, still keeping a close eye on Mike as she dialed the number. She put her hand over the receiver while she waited.

"Hey, Mike?" She called out, and he turned to face her.

"I know I'm not Peter, but if there's anything I can do for you, please tell me. Okay?"

Mike looked at her for a moment before nodding slightly.

"Okay," he repeated and pressed his head against the broken window again.