April smiled and Mike could feel his heart begin to race. He didn't even have time to respond before she came in and hugged him. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? What was going on?

She pulled away from the hug and spoke to him for a minute. He just stood there awkwardly, smiling and nodding occasionally to whatever she said. She didn't seem to mind his response since she kept on talking.

There was a moment though where it had become too much for Mike, however. He didn't know how much longer he could fake it before it showed.

"April? Could you...?" He started. She stopped whatever she was saying and looked at him with curious brown eyes.

He could've easily told her to come back later. Mike knew that didn't work out well the last time, but he honestly didn't know what to do.

April frowned and looked at him closer, already noticing something was wrong. He couldn't lie to her. No turning back now.

"Could you come in?" He asked finally, stepping out of the way so she could enter. Her smile quickly returned as she stepped into the pad. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he closed the front door, peeking his head out to see if there was anyone else coming. When he saw no one, he closed the door again. He turned around to see April in the living room, exploring and taking in the pad. He sighed, relieved.

"Hey, April?" Mike called out. It got her attention and caused her to turn around. Mike's heart beat quickened again when she looked at him. And once again, he had no idea what he was expected to do. He took in a deep breath before he could bring himself to speak again.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom real quick, I'll be back," he said and nervously made his way to the restroom.

He closed the door and locked it, breathing heavily. From the looks of it, she didn't seem to notice there was something wrong or off about him. Maybe there wasn't.

"You're an idiot," he muttered to himself as he took deeper breaths. If she didn't think anything was wrong before, she definitely thought something was now.

There was a window in the restroom. If he wasn't too loud, he should be able to unlock it and climb out, running for safety.

He couldn't do that, not with her here. He sighed and stared at himself in the mirror for a minute as he planned out his next moves. He frowned and flushed the toilet, trying to make it seem like he hadn't just been panicking in there.

It was the little things. Some days, it was worse than others. This was one of those days. Mike became strangely emotional as he watched the water go down and refill. He used to think the sound was annoying or even boring and mundane. But this was one of those days.

He sighed, trying to push back his thoughts and longings as he turned on the sink. He went and splashed some cold water on his face, wiping it off with a towel. He hadn't even noticed that he had left the faucet on and running as he hung the towel back on the rack. It was when he turned back to face the mirror that he noticed and quickly turned it off.

After a few more deep breaths, he was ready and hesitantly stepped back into the living room.

April was sitting on the couch, reading a large book. Mike sighed and took a few steps closer, his heart nearly stopping when he saw the book she was reading

She smiled and looked up at him, saying something, before she looked back down at the book. Suddenly one hand went up, and the other stayed down to hold down the book.

"A-P-R-I-L," she spelled out carefully with the one hand, trying to match the pictures in the diagram as much as she could. When she looked up at him again, Mike did the best he could to put on a smile.

"Good," was all he could say. She closed the book and tapped beside her, gesturing for Mike to come over. He frowned, trying to still hold it together for as long as he could as he made his way across the room and sat beside her.

She started speaking again and opened the book, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for. In the back cover, there was a note. It was written by Peter, the one who had the neatest handwriting of the group, but signed by all three of them.

"Dear Mike," it read. "I'm really sorry about everything and you getting sick. But it's going to be okay. If it's not, at least we'll go through it together.

Peace and love,

Peter. Davy. Micky.

The Monkees."

Mike didn't even realize that April was looking at him as he read it. His hands had begun shaking and she quickly grabbed one and squeezed it. He frowned when he looked over and saw her worried expression.

"Look, April," he said shakily. "I can explain."