Chapter 10- One, Two, Three, Four

Three Days Later

Every village, town, or city he passed, Mike checked the hospitals, police stations, and the local hotels to see if they had encountered a Micky Dolenz or Peter Tork. Mike, tired from the constant failure, drove into Los Banos, California. The city was bustling with life for a Saturday morning. Mike drove slowly through the streets, studying the faces of every person he saw. Every now and then he'd look over at the sleeping Monkee in the passenger seat, then continue his search for other missing Monkees. He heard his stomach growl.

"Well, if Micky's going to be anywhere, he'll probably be somewhere where there's food." Mike said to himself, finding a nice little diner to eat at. He parked the car and shut it off. He shook the little Englishman. "Mornin' Davy. Rise and shine, breakfast time." However, he didn't stir. "Davy?" Mike shook him again. He got no response from his bandmate. "Davy!" Mike said a little too loudly. Quickly Mike turned the car back on and frantically drove out of the parking lot in search of a hospital. 'No, Davy, no.' Mike thought to himself. 'Not now. This can't be happening. I should have forced you to go to the hospital in the first place.' "Stay with me, Tiny." Mike said out loud. "I'm getting you help whether you like it or not."

Driving up to the small little diner that he met her at, Micky dropped Annette off. Ever since they met and their mutual concern for Peter grew, Annette and Mildred opened their home up to Micky while Peter healed. Ever since Micky was reassured that Peter was okay, he did everything he could to make it up to the girls. He drove Annette to and from work. While she worked he would visit Peter, or if Mildred came along, he would drive Mildred around to do her errands, as well as stop and visit Peter. It hurt Micky to know that he still couldn't get ahold of Mike, and it hurt him to think of what could have happened. The girls knew not to talk about it, but that didn't change the fact that if he wasn't talking to someone, Micky was thinking about them.

Micky pulled out of the parking lot and out towards the hospital. Up ahead he could see a small, burgundy car speeding through the streets. "What's his problem?" Micky mumbled to himself, watching the car swerve and pass loads of angry drivers. It quickly disappeared from sight as quickly as it disappeared from Micky's mind.

He parked the flashy MonkeeMobile in the parking lot of the hospital and quickly got out. Soon he found himself in the waiting room of the hospital, asking to see Peter. The nurse told him to wait a moment so she could go check on him. Sighing, Micky watched her leave.

"Gah!" Someone yelled. Their cry was followed by the sound of a utensil and a clipboard hitting the floor. Naturally, Micky looked.

A tall, lanky man sat curled up in a chair, his hands over his head and face buried in his knees. Suddenly he uncurled and began pacing, running his hands through his black hair. Micky looked at the man in confusion. His confusion was cleared when the man picked up a green wool hat from the floor and threw it at the wall.

"Mike?" Micky asked, taking a step forward. The man stopped his rant and looked at Micky.

"Micky?" Mike asked, all of his anger quickly disappearing.

"Mike!" Micky smiled, running up to him. "You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive." Mike said with a chuckle. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting Peter, what are you doing here?"

"Peter's here?"

"Yeah. Why'd you get so upset?"

Mike frowned and looked at the floor where he threw the pencil and clipboard. "My pencil broke."

"Your pencil broke?" Micky asked with a grin plastered on his face.

"Davy wanted to help find you. I…" Mike didn't look at Micky, rather he stared at the unfinished paperwork. "He's not doing too well. BabyFace beat him up pretty bad. He said he didn't want a doctor, so he came with me to find you. This morning he wouldn't… he wouldn't wake up, so I brought him here as quickly as I could."

"How'd you even get here? I have the MonkeeMobile."

"I borrowed Mrs. Purdy's car."

"So that was you driving like a madman down the road?" Micky laughed. "I wish I would have known."

Mike cracked a small smile. "Thanks for noticing my handiwork."

"Mr. Dolenz?" A nurse asked.

"Right here." Micky said, turning towards her.

"Mr. Tork is ready to see you now."

Micky looked at Mike, who shook his head. "I have to fill out the rest of Davy's paperwork. Just let him know that I'm here and so is Davy. We're all here."

Micky smiled and walked over to the nurse. "Hey…" He glimpsed at her nametag. "Valleri? That guy over there is a good friend of mine and Peter's… Well, he's actually one of our roommates. He just brought in our other roommate today, so could you try and put David Jones's room as close to Peter Tork's as possible?"

"I can certainly try. What's the patient's name again?"

"David Thomas Jones. The man over there is Mike Nesmith. Peter will want to see him, too. Is it alright if I take him back with me?" The nurse scribbled this information down.

"I don't see why not. Thanks for letting me know. Follow me." She said, leading Micky to Peter's room as it was routine.

She opened the door to the room and let Micky in. He couldn't help but smile when Peter's face brightened at the sight of him. He walked in with a spring in his step. "Hey Pete!"

"Hi Micky, how are the girls doing?"

"Same old, same old. How are you holding up?"

"Getting better."

Micky paused for a moment, trying to figure out the right words. Peter noticed Micky's sudden concentration and happy demeanor. "Everything alright, Micky?"

"More than." Micky laughed. "I've got a surprise for you, but I don't know if it's ready yet." Micky thought for a moment, his excitement getting the better of him. "I'll be right back." Micky jumped up and ran out of the room.

"Micky!" Peter yelled, but he was too late. The drummer was gone.

"Mike, Mike, Mike!" Micky yelled running through the halls. He skidded to a halt when he got to the waiting room, running into Mike. His clipboard and pencil fell to the floor again.

"Micky!" Mike yelled, but then suddenly sobered, picking up the pencil and clipboard. "Give me one minute, will you? I'm almost done." Mike quickly finished filling out Davy's paperwork. With Micky, he walked over to the nurse's desk and handed the paperwork over. "Here. That's as much as I can fill out."

"This is Mike Nesmith." Micky intervened. "He'll be with me in Mr. Tork's room."

"I'll let the doctor know, Mr. Dolenz."

"Thanks. Come on, Mike." Micky said, grabbing Mike's arm and pulling him into the hospital wing. When they reach his room, Micky stopped. "Here we are, Mike." Micky was beaming. Mike couldn't help but smile as well. "Peter!" Micky yelled, throwing the doors open. "Look what I found you!"

Micky and Mike stepped into the room. Mike couldn't help but laugh when he saw Peter's face light up. "Mike!"

"Hey good buddy, how you feeling?" He replied as casually as he could.

Peter, with a smile plastered on his face, answered, "Eh. Could be better. How'd you get here? Micky says he has the MonkeeMobile."

"Mrs. Purdy let me borrow her car." Mike explained again. "Davy's not feelin' too good, though." Mike's smile faded. "BabyFace hurt him, but he insisted on finding you first, shotgun. I guess it was a good thing he came along or else I might have never come here."

"What happened to him?" Micky asked, taking a seat in a nearby chair.

"Not quite sure. I got there and he was tied up and looked pretty purple. When I asked to let him go they knocked him over the head and dragged him away and threw him into some gross pond."

"Wait, you asked them to let him go?" Micky asked.

"And they did?" Peter added.

Mike rubbed the back of his neck. "Well… I didn't tell them… Micky did."

"Mike, what did you do?" Micky asked cautiously.

"I dressed up as you so they'd let me have Davy." Mike admitted. "I went to that prosthetics store downtown so that I'd look the part. I admit, I fooled them pretty well, even Davy."

"But that place isn't cheap." Peter pointed out. "How'd you pay for it?"

Mike really hoped Peter wasn't going to bring that up. He frowned, looking down at his lap.

Seven Days Ago

"How's that, Mr. Nesmith?" Jessica asked, turning Mike's chair towards the mirror.

"I'll admit," Mike said. "I never thought I'd look like Micky." Mike looked up at the young lady. "So, how much is this, then?"

"Fifty dollars." Jessica replied, cleaning up her work area.

"Fifty dollars?" Mike exclaimed. "I- I don't have that kind of money!"

"You don't have fifty dollars?" Jessica asked, somewhat flabbergasted. "What do you have?"

Mike quickly pulled out his wallet, frowning when he saw nothing was in there. "Nothing." Suddenly, an idea came to him. He didn't like the idea, and knew he'd feel guilty about it later, but it was worth a shot. "Maybe I can give you something else. A record, maybe?"

"A record?" He knew he had caught Jessica's interest. "By who?"

"Come with me." Mike said, waving her to follow. They walked out of the shop and towards Ms. Purdy's car. Opening the driver's door, Mike reached in and grabbed the new album he had only received the day before. "It's by the Monkees." Mike said, presenting it to Jessica.

"The Monkees?" Jessica asked, looking at the cover, then flipping it over. "Here, let's go inside. I've got a record player. We'll see if it's worth it."

"Oh I hope it is." Mike mumbled to himself, following her back inside.

They walked back into the back of the shop into a small office. Jessica walked over to a small turntable and set up the record. "Here we come, walking down the street…" Mike cringed and blushed. Writing a theme song for them was all Micky's idea. It was one of those days where Micky had one of his ridiculous plans that just had to be done. Mike didn't pick up on the fact that he put it on the album. "Hey, hey, we're the Monkees! Hey, hey, we're the Monkees…" The song faded and Jessica laughed.

"What was that?"

"It was my roommate's idea." Mike admitted. "The next song's better, I promise."

"I don't know, I thought that song was pretty fun." Jessica smiled. She had been looking over the album cover. "So you're a Monkee?"

"Depends on how you put it." Mike replied, relaxing a little bit. "I mean, evolution suggests that we're all monkeys, but as far as music is concerned, yes, I'm a Monkee."

"Monday had a sad child, always feeling low down…"

"And she liked it so much she agreed to take it as payment." Mike finished, not daring to look at Micky or Peter.

There was a soft knock on the door and a nurse popped her head in. "Mr. Nesmith?"

"That's me." Mike said, turning away from his bandmates, not sure whether he was relieved or not.

"Mr. Jones is in the room right across from here. He was sedated for surgery but should be up in a couple hours." The nurse informed him.

"Surgery?" Peter asked, his face draining of all color. "Why did Davy need surgery?"

"I don't know, Shotgun." Mike replied, not looking at him. "I'll go check in on him. Thanks." Mike told the nurse before following her out.

"Mike! Wait," Micky interrupted.

"What?" Mike asked, turning back towards his friends.

"It's alright." Micky said with a forgiving smile.

"Yeah, we understand why you pretended to be Micky. If you didn't, Davy would be dead." Peter continued.

"What?" Micky asked, turning towards Peter. "No, I was saying it was alright that he used the record as payment." Micky now turned to talk to Mike. "Dressing up as me and going in after Davy was a bonehead move."

"Micky," Peter intervened. "Mike, go ahead and look after Davy. Micky and I need to talk."

"What?" Micky whined.

With a shy smile, Mike nodded and left, walking over to Davy's room.