Mike didn't spend the night with Micky, as Micky said he needed to be alone to think about what he was going to say to Samantha. Micky had arranged to meet his pregnant ex, and the following morning he went to visit her at her friend's house just out of the city.
It was painful, for both Micky and Samantha, and when Micky returned to the hotel, he felt like a broken man. He went straight to Mike's room, hoping to seek comfort in his Texan partner.
"How did it go?" Mike asked gently, letting Micky into the room.
Micky was silent as he walked into Mike's room. He sat himself at the end of the bed, running his hands through his hair.
"It was horrible." Micky responded, Mike watching over him. "It was like when we broke up, only a thousand times worse. I feel like such a bad person."
"Hey, don't say that." Mike said, sitting down next to the curly-haired man.
Micky looked up at his partner. "I told her that I'd be there for her, that I'd stick by her... but she didn't get it. She didn't get why I didn't want to be with her. She couldn't understand why we can't just be a family."
Mike hung his head sadly.
"So I had to tell her," Micky continued. Mike's head snapped up, a look of horror on his face. "Not about us... not exactly, anyway, but I had to give her something. I told her I couldn't be with her because I was in love with someone else. I didn't say I was seeing anyone, just that I was totally hung up on someone. It's as close to the truth as I could get."
Mike sighed sadly, clearly relieved that Micky hadn't told the whole truth. "And how did she take it?"
"How do you think she took it?" Micky questioned, his head a mess. "She was crushed, man, totally crushed. She thinks I'm an asshole."
"Come on, Mick..." Mike said gently. "You did the right thing; you were honest with her. You told her that you'd be there for her, didn't ya?"
"For all the good it did." Micky sighed. "She thinks I'm just going to forget about her, to forget about both of them."
"When the tours over, and things have calmed down a little, you can discuss things properly." Mike said thoughtfully. "Right now her head is a mess, but it won't be forever, not when she realises you're serious about stickin' by her."
Micky shook his head slowly. "Everyone is gonna hate me." He said quietly.
"That ain't true." Mike said firmly. "You could be runnin' a mile in the opposite direction, you could tell her you want nothing to do with her or the baby. But you ain't. You ain't doing that. You're doing the honest thing, the right thing, and she'll realise that soon enough. Seriously, Micky."
Micky rested his head on Mike's shoulder as the Texan slid his arm around Micky's waist. "I feel rotten." Micky whispered.
Mike kissed the curls on top of Micky's head. "I know you do, baby. But you ain't rotten, Mick. You're amazing and I love you."
All Micky could do was sigh sadly.
This certainly wasn't the best day for Micky to feel so down about himself, seeing as the group had interviews all afternoon. Thankfully they didn't have a show that night, but Micky was far from his usual cheerful self, and the interviews and photo shoots were a little painful. Mike and Davy worked hard to compensate for their troubled band mate, but by the end of the day Micky was ready to let the ground swallow him whole.
Instead though, Micky was persuaded to go to a club just down the road from their hotel to enjoy their last night in Chicago. Micky was far from being in the partying mood, and even a few beers couldn't cheer him up. The rest of their crew were semi-aware of what was going on with the usually happy Micky, so they knew to tread carefully. Things only went from bad to worse when a group of three men started hassling what appeared to be a male couple at the bar.
It had started when this small group of friends were sat on the table next to where Micky, Mike, Davy and some of the others were sitting. Micky had overheard the men make some homophobic remarks in direction of these two guys at the bar - a feminine looking man, and a slightly older one, who appeared to be romantically involved, even though they weren't being overly affectionate towards each other. Micky had overheard the words "fags" and "homos", and he'd tried to ignore it the best he could. But as the night went on, the comments got louder and more frequent.
It all came to a head when the group of guys started shouting remarks across the bar to the gay couple. The men were openly laughing and mocking the innocent couple, who were simply standing at the bar minding their own business.
"I didn't see a sign that said queers were allowed in this joint." One of the men shouted across to the couple, laughing as he did so.
Micky stared at the group of guys - they looked so smug, so pleased with themselves, laughing and joking, pointing at the couple as if they were something they had stepped in. Micky felt his heart sink and his blood boil, and that's when he felt Mike's eyes burning into him.
Micky looked at Mike from across the table. "Someone should say something." Micky said, clearly agitated.
"Nah, best to stay out of it." Davy said, sipping his beer.
"Why?" Micky asked. "Those guys are being fucking jerks."
"Leave it, Micky." Mike said, narrowing his eyes.
"Why should we leave it?" Micky said, looking around the bar. There were a few awkward looks in the direction of the group of men, but nobody was doing - or saying - anything about it. "Why is nobody saying anything? Why is everyone just cool with what they're doing?"
"Micky, relax, will you?" Davy asked, clearly confused by why Micky was reacting the way he was. "There's nothing anyone can say to guys like that. They'll just carry on being dicks anyway, so it's best to just keep your head down."
"It's a fucking joke." Micky snapped, knocking back the rest of his beer.
"Hey, bartender!" Another of the men shouted to the guy behind the bar. "Make sure you wash your hands after serving those queers, we don't want to catch whatever they've got."
His friends laughed like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. The bartended rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, but he didn't say anything and just carried on what he was doing.
"How can that bartender just ignore that?" Micky asked, and the rest of the table were now starting to look at Micky, wondering why he was getting so worked up. "Why aren't they getting chucked out of the club?!"
"Micky," Mike said, his voice low, almost warning. "Don't."
"Fuck this." Micky said, and he pushed his chair back aggressively and rose to his feet.
Davy, who was sitting beside Micky, quickly stood up. He grabbed hold of Micky's arm, sensing that his friend was about to storm over to the group of guys and give them what-for.
"Seriously Micky, just ignore them." Davy said. "You won't stop them from acting like that, you'll just get dragged into their shit. Or get your arse kicked. Either way, it won't help matters."
Micky glanced at Mike. Mike just sat there, staring at Micky with eyes that were pleading with him not to cause a scene. Micky then turned back to Davy, who was giving him a knowing look.
"Just leave it, man." Davy said, his grip on Micky's arm firm. "I know you're worked up about Samantha but seriously, getting into a bar-fight with those arseholes isn't going to help anything."
"Whatever." Micky shrugged Davy off of him. "I'm going back to the hotel."
Micky stormed off in direction of the exit. He passed the bar where the group of homophobic men stood, still laughing and joking like they didn't have a care in the world. Micky wanted so much to say something to those guys, to tell them to shut the fuck up, but at the same time he knew Davy was right; it wouldn't help, and it wouldn't change anything. So Micky grit his teeth and walked straight past them, approaching the couple who were the victims of the ridiculous remarks. They seemed nothing more than irked by it, but Micky admired their strength to ignore these men, to not rise to the bait and to carry on with their evening as if the abuse wasn't even happening. The two men glanced at Micky as he passed them; Micky wasn't sure whether it was because they recognised him or what, but Micky gave them a small smile. And the two men - a very pretty looking man with bleach-blond hair, and a slightly older, exotic looking dark haired man - smiled back. Micky almost felt like his heart could break; that could so easily be him and Mike.
Mike stayed at the club for a couple of hours longer - but only out of politeness. Or in actuality, it was more because of his paranoia, and wanting to avoid people thinking it was 'odd' that both he and Micky took off so soon. So Mike stayed, forced a smile, and tried to will the time away until it seemed an acceptable point in the evening to leave.
From the moment Micky had left, Mike had used every muscle in his body to stop himself from following his troubled partner out. Mike was worried about Micky; Micky's mood had been low enough worrying about his pregnant ex-girlfriend without having to listen to homophobic comments all night long. Although the comments clearly weren't aimed at Micky, Mike knew from the moment they started to overhear those idiots talking the way they were that Micky would be affected by it.
So Mike headed back to the hotel. He went to his room first to freshen up before going to Micky's room next door. Mike still had his key, and he quietly let himself into Micky's room. Mike hoped that Micky was in there and hadn't gone off to some other bar to get wasted on his own, and as soon as Mike opened the door he was relieved to hear the TV.
When Mike entered the room he found Micky lying upside-down on his bed, his head hanging off the bottom watching the TV upside-down. When Mike observed the room he noticed Micky had taken advantage of the mini bar, and there was a half-empty bottle of scotch on the side.
"Oh Micky." Mike sighed, looking at his drunken lover.
Micky hadn't even realised Mike was in the room, and his eyes fixed on the Texan upon hearing him talk. Micky then turned himself around on the bed - which seemed a bit of a struggle - and sat upright, wincing a little as he did so, as if he'd gone dizzy.
"Hi." Micky said, pulling his legs so he sat cross-legged, and he swayed on the spot.
Mike picked up the half-empty bottle of alcohol. "You think you're gonna find all the answers at the bottom of a bottle of scotch, huh?" He asked, slightly annoyed.
Micky shrugged, "It makes me feel better."
"No it don't. 'Cause in the mornin' your problems will still be here, but you'll just have a hangover to go with 'em." Mike said, setting the bottle down and turning off the TV. "So this is why you come back here, huh? To get drunk on your own?"
"If you're gonna lecture me then you can just- you can just go." Micky said, waving his hand dramatically. "Because I don't need it. I don't need any of this shit."
Mike sighed. He perched himself on the edge of Micky's bed and looked at his troubled lover - it had been ages since he'd seen Micky in such an emotional state. "Micky..." Mike sighed again. "Those guys in the club... you can't let people like that get to ya."
"We should've said something, we should've done something to stop them." Micky slurred. "It's not fair. It's- it's not. They're such fucking assholes, I fucking hate them."
"I know, Mick. But there's nothing anyone can do with people like that." Mike said gently. "There're jerks like that everywhere. I wish there weren't, but that's the way it is. You just got to ignore them."
"How can you not care?" Micky asked, staring at Mike.
Micky looked so troubled and so unhappy. Mike could only smile sadly. "Of course I care, Micky." He replied.
Micky stared ahead. "Every- everything is so fucking unfair." He said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "How is it fair that- that guys like that can say whatever they want, but me and you- me and you, we have to hide. We have to hide like we're doing something wrong. Like- like we can't even be honest with our friends and our family and everyone. And we have to lie. And I can't even tell Samantha the truth, I can't even tell her why I can't be with her. I can't tell her it's because I'm in love and I'm happy and I never meant to hurt her. And I fucking- I fucking hate the lying. I fucking hate all these lies."
Mike hadn't heard Micky speak like this before, although he wasn't surprised by it; in Mike's head, it had always only been a matter of time before their secret got on top of Micky.
"And I feel like a bad person." Micky continued. "I feel- I feel so mean and horrible. And everyone's going to think I'm an asshole. What will my mom think? I'm gonna- I'm gonna have a kid. She should be happy be-because she's gonna be a grandma. But she won't be happy because it's fucked up. She'll be ashamed of me."
"No she won't, Micky." Mike said softly, swinging his legs onto the bed so he was closer to Micky. "I told you before; you're doing the right thing. I know it's a mess now but I promise it won't be like this forever. Things are always complicated and nothin' is ever perfect, but you'll be fine. Samantha will be okay, too. And when you explain to everyone that even though you and Sammy ain't together, you're still gonna be a good dad and you're gonna be there for your baby, it'll be alright. You gotta believe me, Mick."
Micky had stared at Mike as he spoke. Mike gazed at his troubled boy, knowing that Micky was drunk and self-pitying, and praying he wouldn't feel so bad in the morning.
"How can I be a good dad?" Micky slurred. "I don't- I don't know how to be a dad. I don't even have a dad. My dad is gone. My dad is gone forever, but I wish he was here."
Micky stared ahead, at nothing in particular. He now looked sadder than ever. "I wish my dad was here." He said in a small voice.
Mike closed his eyes, sighing sadly. "I know you do, Mick..." He said quietly.
"Actually I don't." Micky went on, his voice turning from incredibly sad to bitter instead. "Because he'd probably be embarrassed. Embarrassed that his son is a- his son is a fag."
Mike's head snapped up. "Don't you dare say that, Micky." He snapped. "Don't you fucking dare. You dad would be proud of you."
Micky looked at Mike again. He looked embarrassed, and he hung his head.
Mike rubbed his face with his hands, taking a deep breath. "You're drunk. You're tired, you've had a long, stressful day, and you've gotten yourself worked up into a real state." He said firmly.
Micky turned his head away from Mike. "I'm fine." He said.
Mike rolled his eyes. "No, you ain't fine. You're far from fine, Micky." He said. "But you will be fine. Once you've gotten some sleep you'll be okay. You've had a big couple of days; you've got some big news to deal with."
"And you- you think I'm weak and can't handle it." Micky slurred, looking irritated.
Mike took a deep breath. "No, Micky." He said, blowing the breath out, trying to keep his cool. "That ain't what I think. But I also think it's pointless talkin' to ya when you're in this mess."
Micky was silent, still looking away from Mike. Mike watched his boy for a few moments before Micky turned to face him again. "I'm sorry." He said, hanging his head.
Mike smiled sympathetically. "You got nothing to be sorry for, Mick." He said, wrapping his arm around Micky's shoulder. "You're just drunk, baby. You need some sleep."
Micky looked up at the Texan. "Will you stay with me?" He asked, his almond-shaped eyes wide in hope.
Mike smiled softly. "'Course I will, darling." He replied, pressing his lips to Micky's forehead.
Mike laid down, guiding Micky down with him. Micky cuddled up to Mike, resting his head on Mike's chest. Mike held Micky close, and within a matter of moments, Micky was fast asleep. Mike sighed, glad that his boy was settled and hoping that he was falling into some sweet dreams. Mike hated seeing Micky so worked up, and even though Mike knew that alcohol had a part to play in Micky's self-pitying tonight, the seed was still there to begin with. Those guys in the bar were real, and Samantha and the baby were real. Mike certainly didn't think Micky was weak, but was he strong enough to deal with all of this?
Micky's eyes flickered open the following morning. He had a headache, and his mouth tasted like death, but he could've felt a hell of a lot worse. Micky stretched out, some hazy memories of the previous night coming back to him. Micky's vision was blurry so he rubbed his eyes, sitting himself up. When Micky opened his eyes with full focus, he saw Mike sitting on the edge of the bed watching him.
"Morning." Mike smiled.
Micky blinked hard; Mike's face was a treat for sore eyes. "Hi." He replied a little groggily.
"Here," Mike said, handing Micky a glass of water.
Micky took the water and wasted no time in gulping it down, appreciating the way the cold water felt as it slipped down his dry throat. Micky set the glass on the nightstand and looked back at his Texan lover. "Thanks." He said, smiling awkwardly.
"How are you feeling?" Mike asked.
"Hungover." Micky replied, a little laugh to follow. Mike simply looked at him. "Did you stay with me all night? I don't remember falling asleep."
"Yeah, I stayed with ya." Mike replied. "And once you settled down, you were out like a light."
Micky tried to piece together the memories of the previous night. He cringed a little. "I'm guessing I got all self-pitying, huh?"
Mike smiled sympathetically, nodding his head. "A little."
"Oh, god." Micky cringed, rubbing his head with his hand. "How attractive."
"You've got a lot on your mind, babe." Mike said in Micky's defence.
Micky emerged from his hand, a pained expression on his face. "You must think I'm so pathetic."
Mike shook his head. "No." He replied without hesitation. "I think you're scared. And I think you've got a big heart. Actually, I know you've got a big heart."
Micky sighed. He stretched himself out, running his fingers through his messy-curls. "I guess you want to talk about last night."
"Well I wanna make sure you're okay," Mike begun, his eyes fixed on Micky. "Those guys in the club... you remember that, right?"
Micky nodded. "Yeah, I remember." He said, a little annoyed - though not annoyed with Mike.
"You can't let things like that affect you." Mike said. "It's tough to hear that shit, I know it is. And I know it ain't fair either, but that's life. Those guys are assholes but there's a million n' more just like them out there, and unfortunately we're gonna have to come across people like that now and then. You can't rise to it, Micky. You just got to ignore them."
"But how?" Micky asked, wondering how Mike seemed to find it so easy. "They were being so insulting, making fun of two innocent guys who just wanted to have a quiet drink. Those guys could've been us, Mike. They were just minding their own business trying to have a good time. What did they do to deserve abuse like that?"
"They didn't do anything, Micky." Mike said. "I know it's fucked up, but there's nothing anyone can do about it."
"I still think we should've done something." Micky said firmly. "All those people in that club and not one person stood up for them. That's fucked up."
"It's because there's nothing anyone can say." Mike went on. "Those guys... there's always gonna be idiots like them, Mick. And what do you wanna do, go up to every single one of them and tell them that they're wrong, that they're assholes, that they shouldn't be homophobic? Because it won't do anything, Micky. They'll stll be the same. People like that, they can't have sense talked into 'em. There's nothing you or I or anyone else can say that can stop them being assholes. And you just have to live with that."
Micky knew Mike was right, although he wished to god that Mike was wrong. He shook his head sadly. "It's so unfair."
"I know, but life is unfair. All of this is unfair, but all we can do is make the best of it that we can, and just be thankful that it weren't us gettin' that abuse last night." Mike said.
Micky nodded slowly in agreement.
"You gotta get a tougher skin." Mike said. "I know you're sensitive and I love ya for it, but you can't let it get to you. We're better than them, that's what you got to remember. People like that, they ain't capable of love, not real love. Nobody who puts down the love between others can be capable of real love themselves. That means they ain't ever gonna know what it's like to have what me and you have. And you know what, I almost pity them for that."
Micky lifted his head to look at his partner. Mike's words were assured and comforting. Mike always had a way of sounding like he knew exactly what he was talking about, and Micky felt like he believed pretty much everything that ever came out of Mike's mouth. Micky had no idea how Mike did it, but somehow the Texan always managed to make him feel better.
"But I know that last night rattled you even more because of everything else that's going on." Mike said. "And you got more important things to think about at the moment, Mick."
Micky sighed deeply, nodding his head again. "I know." He said, thinking back to his meeting with Samantha. He rubbed his brow with his fingers. "How can I prove to Sammy that I'm serious about being there for her? How can I make it so she doesn't hate me?"
"For a start, she won't hate you." Mike begun. "What you gotta remember is, she's going through this life-changing experience and she's scared, just like you are. She thinks she's gonna be alone, and what you have to do is prove to her that she ain't."
"How do I do that though?" Micky questioned.
"We got three weeks left of this tour. Once we're back home, and once she's had time to accept that you ain't getting back together, that's when you can start showing her that you're serious about this." Mike said. "You're gonna go to hospital appointments. You're gonna buy her books and baby clothes and you're gonna take an interest in everythin', and make her feel like the most special woman on the planet. You're gonna tell her that she can call you whenever she needs to. You're gonna be there for her, Mick, and you tell her every god-damn day until she gets the message."
Micky nodded slowly. "But what about everyone else? They're all going to disapprove and think I'm a selfish jerk."
"Micky, you could pretend that Samantha and the baby don't exist if you wanted to - that's what a lot of guys in your situation would do." Mike begun. "But you ain't gonna do that, because you're a good boy- a good man - with a great heart who's doing the right thing. And when that baby comes, you're gonna be a good dad, and you don't need to be married to do that. You'll be amazing, Mick."
"But what do I know about babies and being a father?" Micky questioned, his head starting to spin. "I have no idea what I'm doing."
"You'll learn." Mike assured him. "You're great with kids, babe. You got three little sisters who adore you. My kids adore you too."
"Yeah but that's different." Micky sighed. "Kids like me because I give them piggy back rides and do stupid voices and impressions; they like me because I'm fun. But when it comes to the serious stuff, I'm clueless. I don't know about babies. I don't know about diapers or feeding or- or anything like that."
Mike smiled. "Nobody does at first, Micky; that's why it's called learning." He said gently. "I know it's scary now, but in six months time all of the drama and complications right now ain't gonna matter, because the only thing that's gonna matter is that little baby. Your baby. And when she's here, everything will make sense."
Micky paused. "She?"
Mike looked at Micky blankly. "What?"
"You said; "when she's here."" Micky replied. "You think it'll be a girl?"
Mike scratched his head. "I didn't even realise I said that. But yeah, yeah I guess I do. I mean, I don't know why. I guess I just figure you'll have a daughter."
Micky's eyes widened. He felt a rush inside that he hadn't yet felt; it was a very bizarre feeling that Micky couldn't quite place. "Wow... I haven't even thought about that, you know, about whether it'll be a boy or a girl. I haven't even thought about the baby being an actual baby, like... I don't know. All I've been thinking about is Samantha and how she's feeling in all of this. I haven't even thought about the fact that there's going to be a baby here in six months time. An actual little human baby... a boy or a girl, and- holy shit."
Micky stared into space, the reality of the situation finally dawning on him. He felt scared, he felt completely terrified - but he also felt a pang of excitement in the pit of his stomach.
"Yep." Mike said, nodding his head. Micky looked up to see Mike smiling at him. "It's pretty crazy, huh?"
"How do you do it?" Micky asked in bewilderment, a little bit overcome by his realisation.
Mike laughed a little. "You just sort of do it." He said. "There ain't no way to explain what it feels like when they hand you that little one for the first time... there ain't no feeling like it."
"I guess I always figured I'd have kids someday," Micky begun thoughtfully. "But when I met you, and I realised how I felt about you, I don't know... that thought kinda faded, I guess. I suppose because I fell in love with a man, something I never expected to happen, I just never really pictured myself with kids anymore. I never thought it would happen."
Mike hung his head, twiddling his fingers slowly. Micky tilted his head to the side, looking at his Texan lover. Mike looked thoughtful, almost regretful, and Micky suddenly worried about what his partner might be thinking - or feeling.
"This doesn't change anything between us, you know." Micky said. Mike looked up. "I mean it, Mike. This changes nothing. I love you and I'm sticking with you no matter what. You know that, don't you?"
Mike stared at Micky, absorbing what Micky had said.
"I'm not going to suddenly decide I want to be with Samantha just because she's having my baby." Micky went on. "I love you, and I want you. I know you think I get wrapped up in things, that I get carried away with things, and you're right - I do do that. You probably think I'll get wrapped up in this baby stuff too, and maybe I will. I mean, I hope I do, in a good way. But it'll never be at the expense of us. I don't want to be with Samantha or anyone else, for any reason at all. There's only one person I'm in love with and that's you, and this baby isn't going to change that."
Mike smiled weakly.
"I mean it, Mike." Micky pressed, sensing his partner's uncertainty. Micky reached out, placing his hand on top of Mike's. He narrowed his eyes, leaning in to the Texan. "This changes nothing."
Mike swallowed hard before nodding his head. "Okay." He said quietly.
"You believe me?" Micky questioned.
Mike nodded. "I believe you, Mick." He said. "I just... I just want you to be happy."
"I am happy. Or at least I will be, once I've gotten Samantha sorted out." Micky sighed. "I'm happy with you."
Mike smiled. "You're a good boy, Micky. A good man. I should stop callin' you a boy, because you ain't a boy - you're a man. You're definitely a man. There ain't nothing that makes you more of a man than being a father."
"I'm still your boy, though." Micky said in a small, almost bashful voice.
Mike smiled even more, reaching out to touch the side of Micky's face. "That you are." He said, gazing at his lover for a moment. "You're going to do a lot of growin' up over the next few months, Mick. I ain't saying you're immature, because you ain't. But there's a lot to learn and a lot to deal with, but I need you to have faith in yourself. Can you do that for me?"
Micky nodded. "I think so. I'll try to, anyway. I feel like I can deal with anything if I've got you supporting me." He said. "I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true."
Mike squeezed Micky's hand. "Well I'm here for ya, Mick. And I'm going to help you through this every step of the way."