*Sorry everyone, the formatting messed up on this chapter and I had to fix it. Here it is now, I'm really sorry. I don't know what happened with it. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter. Peace and love*

"Davy!"

He jumped up at the sound of his name. He looked around, desperately trying to find the source before his eyes landed on the concerned Micky, kneeling down beside him. He sat up a little, a bit disoriented.

"Micky, what're you...?" Davy wiped his eyes, startled by the sweat and tears he had felt.

"You were having a nightmare," he explained with a sigh. "I feel pretty bad about waking you since you've gotten the least sleep out of all of us but it's gone now. Are you okay?"

He nodded and sat up straight on the couch where he had been sleeping. How long was I here? He wondered silently to himself. Micky stood and made his way to the kitchen.

"Have you eaten yet?"

Davy shook his head.

"Wasn't hungry," he muttered under his breath.

"That wasn't what I asked. You'll make yourself sick if you don't eat. Here."

He walked over to Davy with a brown paper bag, pushing it into his hands.

"I picked up lunch on my way here. Have whatever you want. I already ate what I wanted."

He was about to object but knew that Micky would force-feed him if it came to that. He took a bite of a tuna fish sandwich but began to feel worse than before. He tried to hide it as he mustered the strength to swallow.

"Where's Peter?"

"It's his day off, I think he's with Mike now."

He nodded and looked down. This didn't go unnoticed to Micky who quickly went over and sat beside Davy, hesitantly wrapping an arm around him.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah." He lied, "just thinking...it all happened so fast, you know?"

He sighed.

"I know. But sitting around inside all day just thinking about it won't change what happened. And it won't do you any good either."

Davy looked up and stared at Micky, more anxious than aggressive, but it still caused Micky to recoil slightly.

"I didn't mean that as an attack. I mean it comes from a place of concern. I'm worried about you, Peter is too. I know it's hard for you but it's hard for all of us. You're not alone here. And I think that locking yourself inside and being miserable is only going to make things worse. Do you understand?"

He nodded and Micky smiled a relieved smile, giving Davy's shoulders a little squeeze.

"I'm thinking of going to see Mike in a little bit. Maybe like in 20 minutes or so. Do you wanna come?"

He shook his head and replied with a small: "no, thank you."

Micky sighed and began to walk away before stopping suddenly. He turned around sharply, his annoyance beginning to show.

"You know, they say that comatose patients are aware of what's going on around them. They can't see or respond to any of it, but they can hear. They can know and sense what's going on around them and stuff. I bet Mike's worried about you, he's probably wondering where you are. Why you haven't come."

Davy opened his mouth to speak, but nothing could come out. He hid his face in his hands, wanting to cry but not able to force the tears. Micky calmed down when he saw his friend and returned to his spot on the couch, no longer upset.

"I really think you should come this time, Davy. Even if you don't want to." There was a pause where he lifted Davy's head and turned it to face him.

"He needs to know that you're there."