A/N: I'm sorry for being so slow! Both I and my dearest beta (Dances With Irrelevancy on FFN) have been busy lately. I have to say that I'll be slow writing this story with all that exhausting school and stuff, please be patient!
Chapter 6. Friday night. Blocked. The idea and the try. The power.
Davy left the boxes, still feeling some force trying to stop him. He had to go for a tiny walk to get rid of the feeling – it seemed to grow fainter with every step and every breath of fresh air. The Boxes were pressing on him – Davy felt it now. Comrade told him that Divad couldn't keep him from leaving the Boxes any more, but there remained some leftovers of his power trying to control Davy.
The night was moonlit, cool and beautiful.
Davy's thoughts were dark.
What bothered him in the first place, despite everything, was Comrade Hatred. His strange words. His 'wanting to make Lettie happy'. He wondered if it was real. He had every reason not to trust Comrade as he couldn't know for sure if he was telling him the whole truth. Comrade Mstislav Hatred, the expert on secrets, knew much more than a simple guy called David Thomas Jones from the Monkees. He could understand much more. He could do much more. He had much more power. Maybe he was using them all – using Davy, using Mike, using Divad… using the Boxes and the people around them. Using this entire world for his own benefit. Davy was afraid of the man.
The second thing was Divad. The terrible character Comrade had described could do so much harm to Mike – and thus make him think badly of Davy. Divad could make Davy look anything he wanted: a traitor, a liar… a killer…
But – and this was the third thing – perhaps Mike would notice the difference. That gave a little hope, but Davy was afraid to hold on to it. The strongest hopes brought the most pain broken, he knew that too well. Though sometimes he survived only on hope – this time he had too much doubt. Mike was smart, Mike was special… but Divad was smart, too, he was cunning and patient… he could wait, but he would not give up. Davy could say he understood him – nobody would be eager to spend endless monotonous moments in the Box and then be 'painlessly erased'…
Finally, Davy had to come up with the words to guide Mike's thought. He had to show him the trail. He had to tell him that Divad and David were different people. But how? Man, how?! All those unsolved problems, all those questions with no answers…
He was standing beside the door of the Pad. He gathered all his courage and opened the door.
Mike was standing in the middle of the room, somehow strangely straight. He turned his head sharply at the quiet sound of the door opening.
- Babe?
Davy looked at him from the doorway. Something was stopping him from running and throwing himself on Mike's neck.
- What's wrong? – Mike asked, stepping towards him.
- What? – Davy asked in a strange voice.
- What – what?! – a strange smile appeared on Mike's face as he raised his eyebrows. His voice was saying 'are you kidding?!' – You went out five minutes ago not explaining anything. You've been weird all day long, stop already!
So, Mike had noticed something. The difference. Now that was a relief! Davy looked at him and smiled softly. Oh God, Mike, my dear, I knew, I knew…
- I'm sorry. I… didn't mean to, - he said just to say something. He couldn't believe Divad was this careless to let Mike notice the difference.
- Didn't mean to… - Mike sniffed. – First you started calling me 'sweetie' and kept on and on and on, and with that saccharine intonation – I just wanted to shake you! - he counted fingers, annoyed and nervous. – Haven't eaten a little bit, what are you doing, dieting? Wanna be a skeleton like me?
Davy smiled.
- Not really. One skeleton for the group is quite enough.
Mike didn't even smile.
- Then what – are you sick or something? Davy! – he grabbed his shoulders. – Don't shut me out, hey! Even after all those… fights – please, trust me! You know you can. You can tell me everything!
He looked deep into his eyes, as if he was trying to see his thoughts. Davy looked away.
- I… it's okay, - he said, freeing himself softly from Mike's hands. – Don't worry. Please. It's all right with me. I promise.
- Okay, maybe, - Mike didn't seem a little bit easier. – Then I think it's Comrade Hatred again. If it's all right with you and with me – something is not right outside, right? – he started pacing up and down the room. – I think all the wrong things – even our fights – happen because of him. Believe me or not. Because I noticed they happen when he's somewhere near.
Davy sighed.
- Maybe, - he said quietly. – I don't know. Maybe. I must say I'm not sure of anything now.
That was true. Davy was completely lost.
- Maybe I'd better go there and have a good talk to him? – Mike said thoughtfully. – I really want to do it. It'll be a good chance to sort this whole thing out, once and for all!
- NO!
The shout burst out all of a sudden. Davy squeezed Mike's shoulders and looked in his eyes in fright.
- Don't worry, I won't kill him, - Mike smirked sarcastically. – At least if he doesn't try any of his tricks.
- Don't, - Davy said, swallowing.
- What? – Mike asked, confusedly this time.
- Don't even think about it, - Davy said, trying to calm down and not make Mike suspicious.
He shouldn't come to the Boxes. Well, Comrade Hatred, or Jorgen, or Bjorn, if nobody else, could probably explain some things to him – they at least weren't blocked. He even thought of bringing Bjorn with him to tell Mike - but alas! When he came to ask him, Bjorn got confused, looked down and explained, that, em, he would love to go with Mister Jones, but, you see, they were helping him Comrade Mstislav in trying to stop Divad, and, em, there were only three of them, and Jorgen and Istvan were in Divad's Box looking for some... em… he didn't know how to explain, he would better not, but just, you see, he was the only one to stay helping Comrade Mstislav, and there was a lot of work to do, and anyway they were not allowed to go and work at anybody's place without Comrade Mstislav, and he was sorry, but they were busy, and, em…
What's more, Davy was afraid for his man. Nobody knew how to stop Vaddy – that was the first thing. Plus, Davy still wasn't sure about Comrade Hatred. What if he had foreseen this variant – Mike's coming to the Boxes? What if it was a trap? What if Comrade Hatred was preparing a free Box? What if Istvan was waiting for him with a needle of Liquid? What if…
- If you go there, Mikey, it won't be right. It's crazy, I know, it's like a nightmare, to me too, but believe me… that… that could be a trap, listen, that so could be! Please don't. There's that Istvan, he's injecting something to people and they go to their Boxes, and then strange stuff happens, and it's not at al good, and then there is that guy, Com… - Davy almost choked on the words when he understood what exactly he was saying. It was all said out of despair, he didn't even notice. And now sudden unexpected joy came out with the truth – he could say that, nothing could stop him!
He breathed in, almost crazy happiness written all over his face. But Mike looked at him quite strangely.
- Emm… will you please stop looking at me like this? - he said, stepping a tad bit back. – I can't actually get your telepathic messages.
Davy's mouth opened.
- A-ah… what telepathic messages? – he asked, lost.
- The ones you look like you're trying to send me, - Mike said sarcastically. – Come on, now I'll have to go there!
He tried to free himself softly from Davy's strong wiry hands.
- And as soon as possible, - he added after a second. - You look really strange, but in fact – really as if you know something.
- Don't be ridiculous!
That was a good way out – to wear a sarcastic mask. Davy came to himself quickly. Mike stopped and looked at him, squinting.
- Listen, - he said – and stopped, choking and swallowing.
- I'm listening, - Davy said, trying to sound calm. – You listen to me. What do you want – more problems? Don't you have enough now?
He was trying his best to sound soft. Mike sighed and looked down, stooped again.
- I don't know, - he said quietly. – I have enough problems, quite enough. But… this whole thing…
And a sudden thought struck Davy. He didn't even know why he thought of that in this moment. He thought of Vaddy. What if Mike's patience gave way just a bit earlier? What if he shouted that all at Vaddy? 'Cruel… will do anything for his own benefit…' – Comrade Hatred's voice sounded in his head. And Davy's heart fell as he understood what that creature could do to Mike if he was under threat of exposure.
Oh God. I have a little time. No, I knew that, but, man, I have even less than I thought I had!
He froze, looking at Mike and barely seeing him. He suddenly realized that by seeing the difference his man put himself in danger. He swallowed hard. He needed to keep calm and not panic. And he needed to have Mike calm, he needed his man trusting him to be able to guide him, as now it turned out to be so urgent.
- Mike, - he said quietly. – Let's go to bed, okay? Everything will be all right. I promise.
- I'd be glad to believe you, - Mike sighed, coming up to him, - but not everything depends on us, sunny.
- I know, - Davy said, looking him right in the eye. – But I'll do everything that depends on me.
And he meant it. Mike smiled with the corners of his lips.
- My little star, - he said, leaning to Davy and kissing him on the forehead. – You are the best living creature.
Davy stroked his hair.
- I'm trying hard, - he said with a slight smile. – But what would I be without you?
He climbed under the blanket and curled up close to Mike. The worry was hiding inside him, curling up in his abdomen, twining around him like a snake. Mike softly caressed his skin, moving down his body. Davy caught his hand thoughtlessly on his hip and pressed it to his chest.
- Hey…
Davy looked up at Mike. He was exhausted, he was anxious, he was helpless. Maybe Mike saw it in his eyes. He put his hand on Davy's cheek and softly raised his face a little to kiss him. Davy kissed back softly, but still quite absentmindedly. Mike let go of his lips and Davy ran his hand down his man's long neck, across his collarbones… and he caught the thin chain. He ran his fingers down the chain and found the tiny locket. Still barely understanding what he was doing, he opened the locket – it clicked quietly – and saw their smiling faces.
And a sudden thought flashed in his mind.
He looked up at Mike.
- Mikey, - he said quietly. – Please, give me this.
- Okay, - Mike shrugged slightly and quickly took off the locket to put it on Davy. Davy caught the thing and squeezed it in his fingers.
- It reminds me… - he didn't finish. And there was no need to. Mike knew perfectly well what it reminded him of.
- I know, - his man said softly. – Me too.
- I will wear it always, - Davy said with a slight smile. – Well, until you maybe ask me to give it back to you. I don't know what will happen if I lose it.
Mike shrugged.
- Nothing will happen, in fact. If you think – really, it reminds us not because the locket exists, but because it's happened and it meant something. But – if you want to wear it always – please do. I'd love that.
- It's a bodily reassurance, - Davy said absentmindedly.
- I can give you a better one, - Mike said with a wide smile.
- What?
He already knew. Mike held him, turned him on his back, rolling on top of him and kissing him hard. Davy kissed back through unbidden laughter. Oh gosh, Mike could make him happy no matter what.
He broke the kiss and turned his face away, still smiling. Okay, he thought, the locket was a good idea. Vaddy couldn't have it. As Mike didn't really care about the locket's existence, it wouldn't be much of a problem to him when it wouldn't be there around Vaddy's neck, this way it wouldn't be a problem for Vaddy and wouldn't put Mike in danger. But Mike might throw something like 'Hey, you said you'd never take it off', or, 'You were so afraid to lose it' – and Vaddy would start mumbling some excuse… and then, at night, he, Davy, would say that he never lost the locket and, as he said, never took it off, and then…
He pushed Mike away.
- You're the craziest man I've ever seen, - he smiled.
- You keep me on earth, - Mike smiled back, making himself comfortable against Davy's side.
- It's you who does that to me, - Davy said sincerely. – You keep us Monkees together and keep us firmly on the ground.
- Let's say we do that together, - Mike said, rubbing his nose against Davy's shoulder. Davy turned on his side and hugged him.
- Good night, our anchor. You know… this Pad is like a little boat in the raging sea. I hold on to you, and Micky and Peter do… and you keep us normal.
Mike chuckled.
- Normal? Do you even understand what you're saying?
- Perfectly well, - Davy said seriously. – I adore you.
- Me too.
Davy closed his eyes. He was all wrapped in his man, in his warm life, in his soft skin, in his quiet power. He opened his eyes – and saw the strangely harmonic contours of Mike's body. His warm breath caressed his forehead like the breeze – the breeze of some endless ocean kept in the little heart of a simple man. He closed his eyes again and just listened and felt.
'You see, he is nothing special. His Mike – ooh, he is! The one who died and was resurrected by love'… - the echo of Comrade's voice rang in his head.
It was a bad idea, with taking the locket. It was a terrible idea, so stupid, oh! Davy was ready to curse himself. Mike most likely wouldn't even notice…
He breathed his man in. His scent was something that could always make Davy feel that he was home. The sound of him breathing, the feeling of his naked chest, of the fuzzy dark mist on it – oh, his hairy Mike… his unruly dark hair… his dark soft lashes tickling Davy's skin when his man kissed him… those warm lips… it all was so dear. It was those many 'bodily reassurances' that Mike existed, that he was there. That he loved…
Davy sighed and made himself comfortable by his man. The morning would tell. He closed his eyes and let the night embrace them. The night they had before Davy would be gone for another long day. He knew he wouldn't make himself watch them through any of Comrade's machines – it was unbearable.
The thoughts of Comrade Hatred and the Boxes were like the nightmares. He couldn't believe it all had been for real. He couldn't believe that some force could easily take him away from his man and leave them both naked – well, at least more vulnerable… but the force was there, he almost felt it around his jaws when he talked, touching his lips, controlling him, catching every word he said. It was tying him to the Boxes – invisibly but strongly. Now the imaginary chains turned into tiny long threads, thin but strong. And even now, holding his man, feeling him, he couldn't feel completely easy. He didn't know what was real and what wasn't. What was safe and what was dangerous. But he knew that they could easily be separated. And even better he knew that he was the one who had to make it all right. Though he seemed to be the weakest…
Not everything depends on us, little star…
He sighed.
He had a little hope. But there was at least something…
He curled up in the strange space – a little ball of power. He was naked in the very heart of millions of strange worlds, his bare feet crossed and his hands pressed to his chest. He didn't want to open his eyes. He calmed his breath down till he could hear the quiet pulsing of the strange worlds. And smiled.
It was a great pleasure – to be free like the wind, like the rivers, like everything. To be able to breathe without anybody controlling him. He smiled. The power was filling him, flowing through his veins, pounding in his temples, pulsing in his blood. Endless power. It was his. He could reach his arms out – and have it in full. But he could use only the littlest part of it. Yet. He wanted, oh, he wanted so to have the power inside him sooner! But his fragile body had to get used to it, and it was slow in that. So he had to wait, stay there, where he didn't want, and where he was in danger. But his freedom was now closer than ever. So he was going to wait. And in fact he didn't want this much power. He knew it would kill him. So he didn't try to hold, to possess. He just let it pour through him with his blood, go away and return, and pulse…
The body which was given to him, to his almighty mind, was fragile and strange. He didn't really like its reactions and reflexes. But he had to cope with it if he wanted to live as he planned. He couldn't blame anyone. That body was a product of a chain of coincidences, that's all. But his mind – his almighty mind wasn't.
Being honest to himself, he could say he didn't want to hurt anyone. Actually, that wasn't his goal – to be a parasite of any kind. He only wanted freedom. He wanted fresh air and this power pounding in his temples now. But there were a lot of obstacles on his way to freedom. And he could only thank the guy whose body he wore, because he – David Thomas Jones – came and brought the Idea.
He wanted freedom. That was the only thing that he had in common with the one whose body he wore, as nobody could possibly want slavery. Nobody could enjoy prison. And the Box was indeed a prison, with no time or space, isolated, locked, endless and too small for him.
He wanted freedom. And he broke free. But he had to block poor Davy because even more than free he wanted to be unique. He didn't want to be a copy. He didn't want to wear this fragile flesh – not even entirely human. He needed a good home for his almighty mind. But he had to cope with it until he was strong enough. Until he was used to living the free life. Until he learned to lead that life. Then he will be able to do anything he wished.
He didn't like his name – it was a code, David's name backwards to show that he was nothing but the guy's reflection. But he wasn't. He knew he wasn't. He knew another name, it couldn't be pronounced with a human mouth, the divine sounds of it couldn't be made with a human throat. But he knew it and he wouldn't let anybody steal it. He could have it because the power was filling him. And now, at this moment, he was made of power.
He thought of Davy with nothing but casual gratitude. The guy had done everything Divad wanted him to on the scene of the play that he was writing as he lived on. Davy was off the stage now. And Divad – however much he hated that name – he wasn't. He was ready for everything. He was ready to break free from the last tiny threads that were keeping him from freedom.
He smiled with the corners of his lips. He was almighty. He existed longer than anything. His mind was in the beginning, before the Word, before any of the worlds. That was the knowledge that came with the power. He was the mind thinking itself on some faraway star, he was the dreams dreaming about themselves, he was the unknown wisdom that knew itself, so mighty that nobody could know it in full without dying immediately. He was the memories remembering themselves in the emptiness. He was everything. And he was pushed into that fragile body by accident. But he didn't want to go back to the faraway star for the eternal solitude. His mind was tired of emptiness. And that world, that little planet was so pleasantly imperfect and asymmetrical.
He loved it. He wanted it inside himself. Now, in the core of the power, his mind could hold billions of such planets. But this one was unique. It was the only one so imperfect and yet charming in the millions of strange worlds. He wanted it – and he could have it. He just needed a little time until all the power was kept in him. But before he wanted to enjoy it. He could come to possession whenever he wished. But he wanted to quietly enjoy it – because he loved it.
He didn't need the quiet love of Mike. Mike was just necessary until he gained enough power, like a cover, like a shield. When he would gain enough power, Mike could be thrown away without further worries. But he knew that Mike was strong. He had something special about him, Divad didn't know what it was and that scared him. He was afraid of Mike – Mike was the menace to his plans. The cold understanding that came into his mind told him that if Mike suspected anything, Divad should kill him without thinking. But he didn't want to run away from anybody, hiding. So he was going to do his best to ensure that the situation worked only for his own advantage. He was gonna let any coincidences decide for him anymore. Now he was gonna decide for coincidences!
He smiled and stretched himself. The morning was coming and he wanted to enjoy his free life.
He didn't know one thing, because he didn't want to know. He didn't know what the power filling him was…