Author's Note: As always, reviews make me happy and keep my creative juices pumping! The more reviews I get, the faster I write!
Chapter 13: Fallout
Mike woke up a few hours later with his head throbbing. He wasn't exactly sure why his head was throbbing or where he was. His memory was very foggy. He opened his eyes and looked around the room to survey his surroundings. He was in a hotel room and suddenly realized he wasn't wearing any clothes. Something came back to him. Just a small piece. He was in Heather's hotel room, but why was he naked? Realization hit him when his eyes landed on a bottle of whiskey sitting on the dresser. He vaguely remembered drinking a little which explained why his head hurt. He didn't remember much, but he realized he must have slept with her.
He groaned and rolled his eyes a little. How could have let that happen? He was pretty sure he could just blame it on the booze and the stress, but he still hated himself for it. He didn't want to send the wrong message to her; she had hurt him too badly to start anything with her again. But yet, something in him felt good about it. Something in him felt a pull towards her. He really had never stopped loving her no matter what she did. She was the only person he ever felt like he could spend the rest of his life with. Aside from Micky, Peter, and Davy, she was the other only person he could bare his soul to.
"How do you feel?" Heather asked coming out of the bathroom buttoning her shirt up.
"Heather," Mike sighed sitting up. "Did we...uh?"
"Yeah," Heather nodded. "Your clothes are on the chair."
"Look," Mike said rubbing his head. "What we did...uh…"
"Mike, it's ok," Heather said. "I understand. You don't have to try and explain. We were both drunk. It was a mistake. A drunk mistake. Why don't you go home. I'll call you a cab."
"I can walk," Mike said getting out of the bed. His legs still felt very weak and he almost fell back down, but caught himself on the edge of the nightstand.
"Mike," Heather chastised. "You can barely stand let alone walk. Get dressed and let me call you a cab." Mike sighed as she handed him his clothes that she had apparently folded neatly on the chair and let her call the cab company. When she touched him, he felt those old butterflies fly around in his stomach again. He looked at her cautiously as she hung up.
"Heather, are you sure that you're ok with this?" Mike asked pulling his boots on. "With where we stand and everything. That you aren't…"
"Mike," Heather laughed. "Stop. I'm fine. We both had too much to drink. I know nothing is going to happen between us. I came here just long enough to talk to you. I'm going home first thing in the morning."
"Where's home?" Mike asked.
"When I got out of jail, I went to LA and started working there," she answered. "I got busted again about a year ago and that's when I went into therapy inside and started turning my life around. I only got permission to come here long enough to talk to you. I have to check in with my probation officer in the morning."
"What do you do now?" Mike asked. A part of him told him that it didn't really matter what she did anymore; he should just take her explanation and start dealing with it. But another part of him desperately hoped that she really was turning her life around. That she was bettering herself.
"I work at a restaurant downtown bussing tables," she answered giving him a knowing smile. "I haven't danced for over a year. And until this, I haven't slept with anyone either. I'm working on my issues, Mike. Why does that matter to you?"
"Heather, I care about you," Mike answered. "That's never going to change. I want you to have a good life. No matter how much you hurt me, you deserve to be happy and healthy."
"That's sweet," Heather said. "I promise, Mike, I'm doing better. I'm getting help. I screwed up a lot in my life and I went through hell. I have a lot of demons to work through."
"Good," Mike answered. Not sure what else to say, they waited in silence until the cab arrived. He was tempted to kiss her good-bye, but instead just opted for a smile. He didn't want to send the wrong signals to her. His mind raced the whole way home. He wasn't sure what his feelings were for Heather anymore. The last several years he'd spent hating what she'd done to him, but he had never really hated her. But now, he had to admit he understood it. He still wished she'd told him the truth from the start, but he understood she was trying to protect him.
When he got home, he waited outside for a little bit trying to pull his thoughts together, but realized it was dark out and he should probably go to bed and finish sleeping off his hangover. He then opened the door and saw Micky sitting in the living room as though he were waiting for him. Mike sighed knowing there was probably going to be an argument and crossed over towards the bathroom wanting desperately to just take a shower.
"That took longer than I thought it would," Micky said staying seated.
"Yeah, well, we had a lot to talk about," Mike said.
"Are you just going to leave it there or are you going to actually talk to me?" Micky asked.
"There's nothing to talk about," Mike lied.
"Really?" Micky asked. "Nothing to talk about? You were gone for 5 hours, Mike. How is there nothing to tell me about after 5 hours of talking?"
"Micky, will you just leave it alone?" Mike asked. "It's over and done with. I got the answers I needed, no thanks to you by the way, and that's it. She's going home in the morning. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."
"No thanks to me?" Micky asked angrily as Mike took his shirt off and walked toward the bathroom.
"Yes, you knew the whole time and said absolutely nothing to me," Mike answered.
"Wow," Micky said. "Talk about hiding things. You weren't going to tell me you had sex with her?"
"What?" Mike asked stunned and turned back to face Micky. "How did you...that's none of your business, Micky!"
"Have you completely lost your mind, Mike?!" Micky asked finally getting up and walking over to him. "She is a manipulator who broke your heart. Are you really going to get involved in that again?"
"You don't know what you're talking about, Micky," Mike argued.
"I know you had sex with her because of the scratches on your back," Micky answered. "She's always been a scratcher."
"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," Mike sighed. "Yes, I had sex with her, but we were both really drunk."
"Drunk?" Micky scoffed. "How much did you have?"
"Not that it's any of your damn business, but we had a bottle of whiskey," Mike spat. "It was a mistake. We both accept that. It's not going to happen again. I told you, she's going home first thing in the morning to meet with her probation officer."
"Probation officer?" Micky asked.
"Yes," Mike answered. "She went to jail, Micky. You knew that."
"Actually, no, I didn't know that," Micky argued. "I knew she was lying to you about her job and everything, but not that she went to jail."
"That's why she left," Mike said. "You threatened to tell me the truth if she didn't and she couldn't because she was facing jail time. She didn't want to drag me down with her. Even so, you should have told me she lied to me, Micky."
"You're right," Micky sighed. "I should have. I don't really know why I didn't. I just...I couldn't see you go through any more pain. I'm sorry. But Mike, you have to believe me. She's playing you."
"She's trying to get her life back on track," Mike said. "She's going to therapy."
"Or so she tells you," Micky argued.
"Micky, I believe her this time," Mike snapped. "It doesn't matter anyway, because I'm not going to see her again."
"Do you want to?" Micky asked pointedly.
"I don't know, Micky," Mike answered honestly. "Maybe. Why does that matter?"
"It matters because I can't stand to see you hurt again, Mike," Micky answered. "Please don't do this."
"Who cares, Micky?" Mike yelled. "It's my life! At least this time I would go into it with the truth out there. I would know what I was getting into. If that's what I even wanted to do."
"Mike…" Micky started.
"I never said I wanted to, Micky," Mike cut him off. "But if I did, what would you do?"
"Everything in my power to stop you," Micky answered.
"What is your problem, Micky?" Mike demanded losing his cool and pushing him a little. He wasn't sure if he did want to try again with Heather, but the sheer fact that Micky would still be so dead set against him pissed him off. "I'm an adult and so is she! If we want to try again, who the hell are you to try and stop it? I know you wanna play this macho little brother thing, but just because she's your sister, doesn't mean…"
"Fuck you, Mike!" Micky roared cutting him off. "You think that's what this is about!? It's never been about that! I could give a shit less who you dated! Hell, you could date Rose who's like a sister or even Sarah as long as it made you happy! That's all I've ever cared about! Heather is only my sister by birth and she's a crappy one at that; you are my family by choice, Mike! I opposed your relationship from the start because I knew what kind of person she was! I knew she would only hurt you! And I didn't want it to happen, Mike! I didn't want you to get hurt!"
"Stop fighting," Peter pled at the bottom of the stairs. Neither of them had heard Peter come down, so they both jumped a little. It really shouldn't have been much of a surprise to either of them because of how loudly they were yelling at each other. Davy stood at the top of the stairs with a look of despair, fear and anger mixing on his face. Peter just looked disappointed in them. Mike immediately felt guilty for some of the things they said. Micky's words had hit him. He spent the last four years thinking Micky had disapproved of the relationship because it was with his sister; now he understood Micky knew what Mike didn't. He really was only trying to look out for Mike, not his sister.
"I'm going to take a shower," Mike said unable to bring himself to say anything else. Micky didn't respond allowing Mike to walk into the bathroom unopposed. He almost wished he hadn't, because now he was alone with his thoughts. And because of the pounding in his skull, he couldn't work any of them out. He had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it.
Micky felt bad for exploding on Mike like he had, but he couldn't contain his anger any longer so he said nothing as Mike walked into the bathroom to take a shower. Micky sighed and sat down as Peter crossed the living room over to him. Davy slowly made his way down the stairs. The looks on their faces tore through Micky's heart like a knife.
"I'm sorry, guys," Micky said burying his face in his hands.
"It's ok, Micky," Peter said. "What happened?"
"He slept with her," Micky answered.
"He what!?" Davy exclaimed. "Why would he do something like that?!"
"He says he was drunk, but…" Micky started.
"But what?" Peter asked.
"Something isn't really sitting right with me," Micky said.
"What?" Davy asked.
"Well, he said they had a bottle of whiskey," Micky started leaning back in the chair deep in thought. "He said they were both drunk. But that doesn't make sense."
"Why not?" Peter asked.
"My sister can drink a lot before getting drunk," Micky answered. "She wouldn't be drunk off one bottle of whiskey let alone splitting one. Mike's a bit of a lightweight; he got trashed off a bottle before, but if they shared it, I doubt he would have been that drunk."
"You think he lied?" Peter asked shocked.
"No," Micky answered.
"Then what?" Davy asked. "If he didn't lie about it and he wasn't drunk, what do you think happened?" Micky had a theory, but he didn't want to voice it. He was afraid if he voiced it, it would become true. He had to find out before discussing it with Peter and Davy to keep them from getting hurt. If he told them his theory and he was wrong, it would devastate them. There was really no use in exposing them to something like that without reason for it.
"I'm not really sure," Micky answered finally. "But I have to find out."
"How are you going to do that?" Davy asked. "Are you going back there? I don't think that's a good idea."
"I have to, Davy," Micky sighed heavily. "If we're going to find out how she got him to sleep with her. I'm just hoping that he had more to drink than he thinks he did."
"It would have to be that if he didn't lie," Peter said.
"Not necessarily," Micky answered still not wanting to go too much into it. "But I have to go back to that hotel room."
"Micky, you can't confront her again," Peter said.
"I don't plan on confronting her," Micky answered. "At least not right away. I wouldn't believe anything she had to tell anyway. But if I dig around in the room, maybe I can find something to either prove or disprove my theory."
"You have a theory?" Davy asked.
"That's all it is," Micky said. "I need proof one way or another before I tell you."
"But how are we going to do that?" Davy asked.
"I have the key still," Micky answered. "In all the yelling, I guess we all forgot."
"Micky, this sounds like a really bad idea," Peter said.
"I agree with Micky," Davy said. "If she did something to him, we need to find out. Micky, you said you figured out what game she was playing before. What was it?"
"I don't know for sure," Micky said. "Again, I have to check. I don't want to freak you guys out needlessly."
"Ok, go back to the hotel," Davy said. "I'll stay here with Mike and cover for you. Peter, go with him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble?"
"Isn't breaking into someone's hotel room getting into trouble?" Peter asked.
"Peter, she may have done something to hurt Mike," Davy said. "I think that trumps anything else. I'm talking taking another baseball bat to her kind of trouble. Find some way to lure her away, then wait till she leaves and play lookout while Micky digs around. If that...woman hurt Mike, I wanna know. Don't you?"
"Yeah," Peter answered. Micky almost chuckled at Davy having caught himself. He could tell Davy wanted to say something else, but restrained himself in front of Peter. He could also tell Peter had some reservations about sneaking around in her room, but Peter also agreed with Davy. They had to find out exactly what she'd done to Mike. They had to keep him safe.