A/N: Here it is, everything I managed to save from the hungry teeth of MS Word and rewrite. I hope it didn't lose anything important. Well, read and tell me what's wrong and what's right. Enjoy!

Chapter 6. Cold.

Mike fell asleep when it was already grey in the room. But when he woke up, the first thing he felt was cold. Freezing cold that was crawling under the blanket licking his body and making him shiver. Mike curled up on his bed and tried to warm himself up with his own breath, but it didn't seem to help. Mike spent a few minutes fighting the cold and then he just threw the blanket away and sat up on his bed.

The freezing cold bit him. The room was covered with rime, it was all white and blue and absolutely, endlessly cold. Mike gasped – and his breath turned into a light cloud of mist which quickly disappeared. Mike jumped off the bed and took his clothes with shivering hands. The rime on the floor stung his bare feet. Even the beds had a thin ice cover. Mike got dressed quickly, put his boots on and wrapped himself in the blanket and sat for a little while just shaking with cold and not feeling any better. Suddenly a thought flashed inside his frozen skull: Davy! Davy was sleeping and – Mike's heart fell deep down to his abdomen and then jumped back up to pound in his throat – he might never wake up…

Mike jumped on his feet and rushed to Davy's bed.

- Babe! Davy! – he shouted, grabbing Davy's shoulder and shaking him. – Wake up!

Davy opened his eyes slowly and looked at Mike.

- I'm awake, - he said, and his voice was stone cold.

Mike dropped his hands down. Such a detached phrase fell on his head like a heavy anvil.

- I just… it's so… cold, - he mumbled, not daring to look at Davy's eyes again.

- I know, - Davy answered simply. – So what?

- I… ah! – Mike sighed and sat down on the floor, leaning his back on his own bed. He knew Davy wouldn't believe him, he wouldn't accept his care since he didn't believe in Mike's love any more. Why, why did he care so much what Mike felt? Was it just that he was offended that Mike wouldn't say three simple words for him? Or was it something deeper, which Mike barely dared to think about? Oh!

Mike ran his fingers through his hair. It was freezing cold around him, but he didn't bother even taking a blanket again. Okay, may he die or may whatever happen to him! Something squeezed Mike's heart, making a lump in his throat. 'Whoever you are, why don't you just kill me? Don't bother finding new and new ways to hurt me! Or am I to blame for what I feel?'

Mike started trembling – not with cold though his body was suffering from it, it was utter despair surrounding him. Was it him to give up facing pain? Was it him to lose his mind? Davy told him – it's not Mike Nesmith to get mad and beat the wall. But it did appear to be him, purely him. Masks… was Davy so mistaken about the masks? Mike remembered himself playing bossy – oh, what a peaceful time it was with all the risks absolutely natural and purely understandable, heartless but logical! He played a lot – played careless, sarcastic and more and more. And in fact he appeared to be just a coward, lost little boy filled with endless love and endless pain. Love… yes, love! He was made of it, he once died for Davy and lived on for Davy and in thanks to Davy. But he did his best to hide that love, and now… he had to face it as he couldn't run away. Love… Mike sighed and, letting his tears out, he opened the secret drawer of his heart…

Here it was, stored secretly, hidden deep inside, so deep Mike could drown in it. This feeling that had so much inside it. He didn't dare to call it love – people used that word to name the littlest things. And this one big feeling Mike was made of was built, like a puzzle, from pain, and worry, and excitement, and joy, and gentle touches, and longing to touch again, and will to help, and sacrifice, and – expectation. It had questions with no answers and answers with no questions. It was hot and it made chills run down Mike's spine. It was pulsing in his veins, it was overfilling him – and it was hidden deep inside his heart in the farthest drawer. Mike bit his lower lip. Tears were falling on his jeans, hidden from Davy, and Mike couldn't help it.

Davy sat down near Mike, fully dressed, leaning his back on the bed. Okay, he said to himself, I did it. I was cold to him and it worked – now he sits here near me and thinks of his behaviour. That's better!

But, strangely, the thought didn't bring Davy the joy that he expected. Mike… strange feelings filled his heart when he pronounced this word – with his lips, with his thoughts, with his voice. With his heart. Mike… The man. The one. The one of many and one of a kind. Only one. Different. Why?

Davy sighed. Something in Mike was different. All people were like people, pretty usual and all. And he was standing alone. They walked the sidewalks. He walked the edge, he was always different. The masks he wore… Davy saw them, but did it mean that he knew what his real face was?

He knew the answer. He saw Mike's face – he saw his soul, naked, opened, when he felt Mike's blood pouring in Vicentius's mouth, fighting fiercely for himself. He heard Mike's words that Mike thought were his last – and appeared to be his first real words. Or not the first?

'…but you're gentle, and you're kind, and you're sincere… what's more, you're a good friend, and a great musician, and a… great man'

Mike did his best to say this in a listing intonation – but there was his smile which he couldn't hide.

'Be good'

That short phrase when Davy was losing the guys. Davy lost Mike a million times – and was found again. Mike never lost Davy. He was somehow tied to him, they were meant to be together. Or was it Davy's imagination?

Davy was experienced in love, but this was something different. When Mike said those three words Davy had heard and said a million times before, he knew it wasn't for these affairs Davy flew through every week. No, what Davy heard – and what he felt as Mike's blood was leaving his body and filling Davy's – was something so deep that it needed the whole life and more.

Love? What kind of love?

Davy turned his head to Mike as he heard a strange sound. Mike suddenly rose and went quickly to the window. He pressed his forehead to the glass and stood silent. Davy could see his shoulders tremble. He opened his mouth to call – and stopped. His pride rose and made him shut up. How Davy now regretted that he fed his pride all the time! But he couldn't do anything. He just folded his arms and scowled. It wasn't for Davy Jones to go to Canossa. And he wasn't gonna go!

Mike sat down near Davy and sighed. He managed to calm down more or less. He was just afraid that his nose would betray him by being redder than usual. He didn't have to worry, though. The cold that was biting Davy's nose made it red as well. Mike looked at Davy who sat calmly, not looking at him. He was shivering with cold, but he wouldn't utter a sound. Oh, that pride of the little man! He would be dying, but he wouldn't forget it. And Mike…

And Mike wasn't Davy. But what could he do? Only the littlest thing. Mike sighed and unbuttoned his shirt quickly, took it off and handed it to Davy, not looking at him.

- What? – Davy's reaction was still cold.

- I don't know if it will be of any help, but that's the best I can do, - Mike kept staring at the opposite wall. – The blankets are icy and my shirt is still warm. Take it.

And added, with effort:

- Please.

He didn't know what to expect. Davy could do anything, literally anything. He could say something to kill the one he trusted so much. Mike could purely understand it – there was nothing as painful as betrayed feelings. He felt Davy take the shirt from his hand and closed his eyes. The cold was biting him cruelly, but he didn't really care. He didn't know how many seconds – or years – passed before he felt a little warmth from his right. Then there was fabric – still warm – on his shoulders and little hands wrapping it around him.

- No, - Davy said. – Do you think I will let you freeze to death? I know I'm an idiot, but it's too early to call me a son of a gun!

Mike put his shirt on, not opening his eyes, and redid all the buttons as slowly as he could, because he didn't know when Davy was going to lean away. But Davy was there – Mike felt his breath. When the buttons were done, he suddenly pressed closer – did it just seem like that to Mike or was he really hugging him from the side? – and Mike felt Davy's arms around him and his thumb stroking his shoulder softly.

- What are you doing, baby? – Mike asked quietly, not believing what he was feeling.

- The best we can do to keep warm, - Davy answered calmly.

- Doesn't the one who wouldn't say 'I love you' to save you deserve to die?

Davy sniffed – and Mike felt his blood pound in his ears because he didn't just hear it – he felt it.

- I said – definitely too early to call me a son of a gun! Don't care that I did my best to look it.

Mike smiled, still not daring to open his eyes and sat still just to feel this warmth to the deepest depths of his soul, to keep this memory, this wonderful gift that could be the last. Any gift could be the last. Any glance. Any touch. Any word.

They sat silent for quite a while.

- I'm sorry, babe, - Mike finally managed.

- Wrong answer, - Davy replied, putting his head on Mike's shoulder. – It's me who is sorry. I don't know what was wrong with me. All in all, you scared that thing away and it was all okay… and what you wanted… I mean, the shirt… that was…

- It was the littlest thing, - Mike said quietly. – You know that, if needed, I would give you my everything.

- It was your everything, - Davy said softly. – The shirt from your back – wasn't it the most precious thing you could give me? And the words… ah, forget it! I understand why you didn't want to say them. Oh, Mike… listen, I did my best to be a son of a gun and…

- No, no, - Mike interrupted quickly. – Stop it, please. You know, it's just that… I don't know why you would care what I feel towards you. And whether it's called 'love' or not. Do you just need love, or what?

- I think that's what I don't have enough courage to admit, - Davy said thoughtfully. Mike felt the little one's head rubbing on his shoulder somehow childishly.

- It's strange, if to think that you probably have more love around than we all have – heck, than anybody in town has!

Davy smiled bitterly.

- Do you really believe that?

- What?

- That it's love.

- And why not? – Mike asked, uptight inside. This was the beginning of something important, but he didn't yet know what.

- Love doesn't just disappear suddenly – like, you know, it was - and is no more, without a trace. You know, I must be the last person you would expect to hear these words from, but… I don't believe in this mortal love. It's more, like, 'loves'. Many-many little loves which lived and died and left nothing. I really don't believe in what people say.

- Then why do you keep doing it? I mean jumping on the surface, surrounded by what you call 'mortal love'

- You said it already, - Davy answered. – I don't get enough something. You said I need love – but don't we all need that? And not just attention or whatever as shallow. We need something to believe in, to give all our lives to…

- You need somebody who will be only yours, - Mike said. – You keep looking for your own warm corner – and you can't find it. You just need to know what you want and you'll find what's yours.

- In this moment, - Davy said with a smile, - you are my warm corner. Would you mind?

And he took Mike's arm and put it around himself. Mike held the little one, still in quiet surprise. Davy wrapped his arms around Mike's neck. His chocolate head was so comfortable on Mike's lean chest.

- I hope I'm not bothering you too much, - he said quietly, with a slight smile. – I don't mean anything, I just want to be near. So we don't need either your shirt for me or iced blankets for us both. Do you mind? If it's anyhow inconvenient, just say – I'll get off.

- No, - Mike answered softly, caressing Davy. – Be near. I want you to be near. I… need you. We need one another.

Somehow this warmth radiating form Davy made him feel that he really was that warm corner Davy was searching for.

- It's just for warmth…

Mike stroked soft chocolate hair, a little tangled but still so wonderful. Everything he was surrounded by was Davy. His entire world was Davy.

- Of course, baby, - he whispered. – Of course…