Thursday 2nd April 1970
It had been almost a month since Mike and Phyllis had mutually decided to call time on their marriage, and Mike was back living in his huge house that he'd had renovated the year before.
Mike and Phyllis' both knew that apart from their children they had nothing between them anymore. While they cared about each other deeply, they were no longer in love and they both knew that their marriage was going nowhere. Their break-up had been quick and pain-free, and they both decided it would be for the best to get a divorce.
Mike was quite content with the arrangement, and although he missed seeing his children every day he was also pretty happy to be back living on his own again. He had been spending a lot of time at the studio, self-funding his own potential solo project. While he had no record deal or immediate plans to put his music out there publicly, he was enjoying writing, recording and producing his own tracks with help from his musician friends, and it was still working out to be quite a decent distraction from the one thing that was always at the back of his mind; Micky.
Mike was at home early one evening, strumming his guitar absent-mindedly in his music room. Mike wasn't sure why, but he was feeling a little distracted today and slightly on edge. Mike was irked when the phone started ringing, although it was distracting him from almost absolutely nothing, and he decided he wasn't going to bother answering it. When the phone started ringing again almost right away, Mike figured he better answer to find out what was so important.
But nothing could prepare Mike for what he was about to hear.
"Hello?"
"Mike? It's Linda. Davy's Linda."
Mike instantly frowned, wondering what on earth Davy's fiancée could possibly want. "Linda?"
"I-I'm not sure if I should be calling," Linda replied, her voice sounding a little wobbly. "Davy told me not to, but...but I think you should know. I think you have a right to know."
While Mike was still totally confused about what Linda could possibly be talking about, he was also suddenly filled with dread. "A right to know what?"
"Micky's had an accident."
From the way Linda was speaking and the fact that she'd felt the need to call in the first place told Mike that this accident wasn't as simple as Micky stubbing his big toe.
"What kind of accident?" Mike asked, his breath getting caught in his throat.
"He crashed his motorcycle." Linda replied, her voice trembling. "I-I don't know how bad it is exactly. Samantha called Davy... they're at the hospital now. I don't know any details, but...but I think it's bad. It sounds bad."
Mike's eyes were wide and he was instantly struck with panic.
"Which hospital?" Mike asked calmly.
"St. John's." Linda replied.
"Thank you."
Mike put the phone down and stared at the wall wide-eyed. Mike wasn't stupid; he knew that thousands of traffic accidents happened every single day and in most cases people would emerge with only whip-lash and a few cuts and bruises. But Mike had a really horrible feeling that this wasn't one of those cases, and the Texan was filled with complete fear for Micky's well-being.
After several moments of his mind working in over-drive, Mike realised he needed to find out exactly how bad Micky's accident had been.
When Mike set off to the hospital he was relatively calm to begin with, but when he got stuck in heavy traffic as he drove into the city he started to panic. As Mike sat helplessly at the wheel of his car waiting for the traffic to clear his mind started to race with thoughts about how bad Micky's accident could be. Mike was becoming frantic with worry, and by the time he finally reached the hospital he felt like he was at the end of his tether.
When Mike asked the receptionist for information on Micky, she was unable to tell him anything due to Mike "not being family". Mike was livid, but the receptionist did point him in the right direction and said that Micky's family would probably tell him what was going on - even though she couldn't tell him herself.
So Mike rushed through the hospital, checking the signs to make sure he was going the right way. Mike had no idea what he'd say when he saw Micky's family, but he was too worried to stress about anyone finding it strange that he was there.
Mike rushed down a corridor and noticed Davy walking from the opposite direction with two plastic cups of coffee in his hands. Davy noticed Mike right away and he instantly wore a look of anger on his face to see Mike storming towards him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Davy asked as he and Mike reached each other.
"Where is he?" Mike asked frantically.
"He's in surgery." Davy replied, clearly concerned himself. "They're operating on him right now."
Mike felt the colour drain from his face. "Operating on him? What happened to him?"
"He crashed his motorbike driving down Laurel Canyon." Davy replied. "He went through a fence and hit a tree... but apparently a part of his bike sort of broke when he hit the tree, and it- and it sort of stabbed him in the stomach." Davy paused, taking a deep breath as Mike's eyes widened in horror. "They don't know how bad it is. They-they need to find out what damage it's caused."
Mike felt physically sick. "Is he going to be okay?" He asked.
"Do I look like a bloody doctor?" Davy snapped. "What the hell are you doing here anyway? How did you know he was here?"
Mike could hardly hear what Davy was saying as he totally spaced out, the panic he was feeling inside almost becoming unbearable.
"It was Linda, wasn't it?" Davy asked, clearly annoyed.
Mike managed to focus on Davy. "You weren't going to tell me." He said furiously, his panic turning to anger.
"It's nothing to do with you." Davy snapped, lowering his tone. "You shouldn't be here. The last thing Micky needs when he wakes up is finding out that you've been sniffing around."
Mike chewed the inside of his mouth. "So he's going to wake up? He's gonna be okay?"
"I told you, I don't know." Davy stressed.
Mike turned away. He run his hands over his face and up into his hair where they rested on the back of his head.
"Go home." Davy ordered, causing Mike to turn around to face the much shorter man again. "His family are in there," Davy gestured to the door that read 'Relative's Room' - Mike hadn't even noticed they were standing right outside it. "They're going out of their minds with worry. Sammy is in there with that little baby and everyone is trying to keep it together. If they see you here they're going to think it's weird."
"I don't care." Mike hit back. "I need to know he's okay."
Davy took a step forward and stared up at the Texan. "Sammy knows he was seeing a man," He told Mike in a low, quiet tone. "But she doesn't know it was you because Micky knew how much worse it'd look and he wanted to protect you. But she knows he was with a bloke, and If you keep hanging around here she's going to figure it out that it was you."
Mike stared at Davy in disbelief. "He told her..?" He asked quietly.
"She's known for ages." Davy replied. "He was sick of lying to her. She's okay with it... well, as okay as she can be, but I'm not sure how okay she'd be if she knew you were the man in question."
Mike buried his face in his hands.
"Don't make things worse for him." Davy warned. "Things are bad enough as it is without you making it worse. You've caused enough damage already."
Mike pulled his face out of his hands, hurt by Davy's words. "Do you think this is my fault?"
Davy simply stared at Mike. "No." He finally said. "But you seriously need to go home."
Mike wasn't sure he could go anywhere until he knew Micky was okay. "I-I can't. I need to know he's alright."
Davy stepped forward, but he waited until a nurse had passed by before he spoke again. "I'll call you." He said. "As soon as I know anything, I'll call you. Alright?"
Mike run his fingers through his hair, completely torn and unsure what to do for the best. His hands were trembling and his heart was pounding - he felt sick with worry and he wanted more than anything to be able to be at Micky's bedside.
"Just go." Davy said sternly. "You're no help being here."
Mike rubbed his face. "You'll call me?" He asked.
"I just said I would, didn't I?" Davy asked. "Now go. I need to get these coffees to his mum and step-dad. They're beside themselves."
Mike took a deep breath and nodded his head. Davy looked at the Texan for a moment before heading back into the relative's room to see Micky's family.
Mike stood outside the door for a little while wondering if he could bring himself to leave. Every instinct Mike had was telling him to be there to support his boy, but Davy's words were also ringing in his ears - there was no way he wanted to make things worse for Micky or anyone else.
So Mike reluctantly returned home - a decision he instantly regretted. Mike sat by the phone desperately waiting to hear from Davy, but as the hours slowly started ticking by, Mike's panic grew stronger and stronger until it almost become physically unbearable.
Mike thought of jumping in his car and heading straight for the hospital again, but he knew that once it had passed 9pm they wouldn't allow any more visitors in the hospital - especially as he wasn't even family.
So all Mike could do was wait. And he waited, waited, and waited some more. The Texan's mind was spinning; was no news good news? What if everything was fine and Davy had simply forgotten to call? What if something had gone horribly wrong? What if Micky had died?
The thought of losing Micky for good had popped into Mike's head several times since the Texan had left the hospital. It was a thought that caused Mike such unimaginable pain and distress that it made him want to vomit. On more than one occasion Mike felt the urge to run to the bathroom to be sick, but he fought through it - there was no way he could leave the phone for even a moment in case he missed Davy's call.
Mike tried desperately to erase that hideous thought from his head, but as time went on it became more and more difficult. Mike felt like he was going out of his mind, and by the time the phone started ringing at a little before 11pm - four hours since Mike had arrived home from the hospital - the Texan virtually pounced on the phone.
"Davy?"
"He's out of surgery." Davy replied. "He's critical... but stable."
Mike had no idea whether to be relieved or not. "Does that mean he'll be okay?"
There was a short silence that further filled Mike with fear. "I don't- I don't know." Davy finally said. "Tonight is the main thing. They said if he makes it through the night there's a good chance he might pull through."
Mike's heart stopped for a moment. "If..?" He choked.
"They removed the piece of bike from his stomach and it didn't do any internal damage, or not much anyway...but they're worried about his head." Davy continued. "He had a big blow to the head because he- he wasn't wearing a helmet... They said they're not going to know how bad it is until he wakes up. If- if he wakes up."
Mike's knees buckled and he fell back into his chair.
"They need the swelling on his brain to go down... or something." Davy went on. "H-He might be fine. If he- if he gets through tonight they said that's really positive."
Mike was traumatised. He clutched his stomach with his left hand while his right hand shook as it tried to keep the phone steady to his ear.
"D-D-Did you see him?" Mike asked.
"No." Davy replied. "His mum saw him, and Sammy I think... I left once I knew what was happening."
Mike stared at the floor with wide eyes.
"I've only just got home and I'm exhausted," Davy said. "I'm gonna go. I'll let you know if I hear anything else, but you need to stay away from the hospital."
"I can't." Mike whispered.
"Yes you can." Davy said. "He's going to be fine, and I don't want him to have to deal with any more drama when he wakes up and finds you hanging about the place. You got that?"
Mike put the phone down, unable to listen to anything else Davy had got to say. He gasped as he leaned forward, doubling over in pain and shock, completely terrified about facing a life without Micky for good. Mike felt totally breathless as the reality and seriousness of the situation fell on him like a ton of bricks; as scared as he had been before, he was a million times worse now.
Davy's words were ringing in Mike's ears.
"If he makes it through the night."
If.
Mike had no idea one tiny word could have such a profound effect on the way he viewed life and everything in it. Mike selfishly thought about his own life without Micky; without hearing his voice or seeing his smile ever again. He was sickened at the thought of Micky leaving without knowing the extent of Mike's love for him.
But Mike soon realised that he would settle for never seeing Micky's sparkling eyes or hearing his laugh again if it meant that Micky was okay. Mike would move to the other side of the planet and never face Micky again if it meant that his boy would pull through and be alright. Mike also realised that he would trade places with Micky in a heartbeat, preferring to be the one suffering in a hospital bed than have Micky's life on the line.
Mike's thoughts went to Micky's family; his mom and his little sisters who had already had to deal with the loss of Micky's father. More than anything though, Mike thought about Ami; that little girl who he'd never even met yet somehow loved with all his heart, and he was heartbroken to think of Micky's daughter having to grow up without her dad, and what Micky would miss out on if he left for good when his baby was only two months old.
All of these thoughts whirled through Mike's mind like a sandstorm, suffocating any hope or positivity. It took about an hour before Mike calmed down, at which point the Texan found himself totally and utterly numb.
Mike sat in that same spot all night. His eyes remained wide, but his thoughts were more or less blank - he was totally gone. The sun had been up for several hours before Mike passed out through sheer emotional and physical exhaustion, but he only slept for an hour or so; when he woke up he sat bolt-upright in fear of missing any significant news about the man he loved so deeply.
Mike tried to call Davy not long after he woke up, but he got no answer. Mike was yet again left wondering whether no news was good news; surely if something had happened during the night, somebody would've told him?
By 10am, Mike realised he could wait no longer for a phone call that might never come, and he headed straight back to the hospital. Mike hadn't showered or eaten, and on only an hour's unsettled sleep he looked - and felt - dreadful, but there was only one thing he could possibly care about at that point, and that was finding out how Micky was doing.
Once again the receptionist failed to give too much away regarding Micky's condition, but Mike figured that if the worst had happened during the night she probably would've told him. Mike tracked down the ward which Micky was on and walked hesitantly down the corridor. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going, and he was scared about what he'd see when he got there, but he kept walking all the same.
Mike eventually noticed a woman with long blonde hair emerge through a door with a baby in her arms. When the woman turned around, Mike could see that it was Samantha.
Samantha looked tired and emotional, but Mike's eyes weren't drawn to her - they were drawn to the baby she was carrying. Mike hadn't even seen a picture of Ami before, and finally laying eyes on Micky's daughter for the very first time was an emotional moment for the Texan.
Mike was struck by how beautiful the baby was, though with parents like Ami's, Mike was hardly surprised that she'd inherited both her parents' good looks. Just knowing that this little girl was a product of Micky made Mike's heart flutter, and it made the pain of the situation even harder to bear.
Mike finally managed to tear his eyes off Ami when Samantha noticed him. Samantha smiled weakly when she saw Mike.
"Hello, Mike." Samantha said as she approached the Texan.
"I uh- Davy told me about Micky," Mike said before clearing his throat. "I thought I'd come see how he's doin'."
"He's stable." Samantha replied. "The doctors are happy with his progress... I mean, he's not out of the wars yet but he hasn't gotten any worse."
"So he's going to be okay?" Mike asked hopefully.
"Nobody knows that yet." Samantha replied, her eyes filling with tears. "The swelling on his brain has gone down, but... but he's still in a really bad way."
Mike swallowed hard. "Do they know what happened? What- what caused the accident?"
"No other vehicles were involved." Samantha begun, sniffing hard. "They think something might've run into the road... a deer or something... and he swerved to avoid it and lost control of the bike."
Mike watched as Samantha took a deep, shaky breath in, and he felt that Micky's ex hadn't finished filling him in.
"But they found alcohol in his system." Samantha said tearfully. "They don't know how much, but... it's all my fault."
Mike was horrified to learn that Micky was possibly drinking right before his accident, but he couldn't understand why Samantha was blaming herself.
"How...how can this be your fault?" Mike asked quietly.
"Because I knew he hadn't been coping," Samantha sniffed, wiping a tear from her eye. "He took it so badly when me and Ami moved out... And I knew something was wrong. He's been looking ill again, the past couple of weeks... and I haven't said anything about it. I just- I thought he should figure it out on his own, but-but I've been limiting the amount of time he's been spending with Ami. I've been making excuses so he can't see her as often, or he can't see her on his own... because I've been so worried about his drinking, and I know he'd never purposely do anything to hurt her, but..."
Samantha was crying properly now, and she held her daughter close in her arms while Mike watched her in horror.
"What do you- what do you mean he hasn't been coping?" Mike asked. He was desperate to remain as calm as possible, but his voice was starting to shake.
"He was in such a bad way before Christmas," Samantha replied. "He was a mess, and I've been so scared of that happening again. He was doing so well when me and Ami were living with him, but after we left... I've been so worried about him. Since Ami was born he's been talking about his dad a lot, so much more than he ever did before, and... I think it's getting to him that his dad isn't around, and he's had all this other stuff to deal with as well... He's been through so much and he just- he doesn't seem to cope with it. And I- I've made it so much worse."
Samantha put her hand to her face as she started to sob. Mike stepped forward, mortified to learn that Micky had been struggling again and heartbroken to see Samantha in such a mess.
"It's not- it's not your fault." Mike whispered gently. "You can't blame yourself for this. It was- it was an accident."
Samantha pulled her hand away from her face. "I should've done more when I realised something was wrong again." She said. "But when I tried to talk to him about it before he just clammed up and told me he was fine. I didn't want to keep pushing him. I wanted him to get better on his own. He used to be so happy... He has completely screwed himself up."
Mike had no idea what to say. He didn't feel Samantha had the right to feel guilty at all, but he also knew that if she knew the whole truth then she would probably blame him instead. Mike believed that he was the one who should be feeling guilty.
"I just don't want my baby to have to grow up without a dad like Micky did." Samantha cried. "I-I don't want that for her."
"That's not going to happen." Mike stressed, his words an attempt to comfort himself as much as comforting Samantha. "He- he'll be okay. He has so much to fight for."
Samantha sniffed hard and took a deep breath. She wiped her eyes as she looked at Mike sadly. "I'm sorry," She said. "You didn't need to hear all of that."
"It's okay." Mike replied quietly. "But don't- don't blame yourself. This ain't nobody's fault."
"Thank you for coming." Samantha said, forcing a smile through her tears. "I know you and Micky haven't spoken for a while, but I think it'd mean a lot to him to know that you're here."
Mike swallowed hard as he desperately tried to compose himself. "I needed to make sure he was okay."
Samantha looked at her daughter. "You haven't met Ami yet, have you?" She asked.
Mike looked at the baby and shook his head slowly. "N-No." He choked. "She's beautiful."
Samantha managed to smile again. "Thank you." She said. "I was about to take her home. My mum is going to look after her for me... I don't want her being here too much. A hospital isn't the place for a baby... but I thought maybe if she saw Micky, I don't know, maybe he'd sense that she was there. I know that's stupid. I'm just glad she's too small to understand what's happening."
Mike drew in a shaky breath. "Is Micky in there?" He asked, gesturing to the door Samantha had emerged from a little way down the corridor. "Is anyone with him?"
"His mum is." Samantha replied. "She's being so calm... I don't know how she does it. I don't think- I don't think I could cope so well in her position."
Mike looked down. "He'll be okay." He said quietly before looking up again. "He has to be."
Samantha forced a smile. "I really hope so." She said. Samantha sighed deeply, standing up straight, and she blew out a breath. "I better get this one back," She said, referring to Ami. "Thanks for coming, Mike."
"It's- it's okay." Mike said in a small voice.
"I'm really sorry to hear about you and Phyllis, by the way." Samantha told him.
Mike's guilt intensified. "Don't be." He said.
Samantha gave Mike a small smile before walking off down the corridor with Ami.
As soon as Samantha's back was turned, Mike clutched his head and leaned against the wall to steady himself as he felt like he could collapse under the weight of his guilt and his fear for Micky. Until now, Mike had believed Micky's accident has been just that; an accident. Knowing now that it could've potentially been caused by Micky being under the influence of alcohol caused Mike even more distress than he was feeling before, and he wondered if there was something he could've done to stop this accident from happening.
Mike had considered visiting Micky many times over the past few months, to see how he was doing and to make sure he was alright. Even when Mike knew Micky had Samantha and Ami living with him he was tempted to visit, but he'd always decided against it. Mike figured that Micky was doing just fine since he'd become a father a couple of months before, but the Texan had no clue that Micky had been struggling again since his ex-girlfriend and their daughter had moved out.
Mike was wracked with guilt. As bad as he'd felt seeing Micky in the state he was in before Christmas, Mike felt about a million times worse now knowing that his boy's life was literally hanging on the line.
Mike managed to walk the short distance to Micky's room. His heart started to pound as he approached it, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to go inside knowing that Micky's mother was in there. When Mike reached the room he could see the blinds on the window were open enough for him to see inside, and when he peered through the cracks in the blinds he could see Micky's mother - Janelle - sitting by her son's bedside, her back to the door and window. But when Mike's eyes moved along from Micky's mother, they fell on Micky himself.
Mike gasped for air when he laid eyes on Micky. Mike couldn't see him crystal clear due to the blinds and Janelle being in the way, but he could see enough to make his heart shatter in his chest and the breath get caught with the lump in his throat.
Micky had an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose and he was wired up to machines next to the bed. Mike could just about make out that Micky had cuts on his head and face, yet somehow his beautiful boy still managed to look peaceful. The fact that Micky could still look so angelic in the state he was in completely floored Mike, and the Texan once again found the need to steady himself as he was faced with the results of Micky's accident.
Mike watched Micky through the window for maybe half an hour or more. Mike's mind was working fast, a mixture of emotions battling each other inside his brain. In the end, it was anger that won the fight to control Mike's emotions, and the Texan found himself leaving the hospital in the direction of Davy's house.
When Mike arrived at the Englishman's home, he found himself pounding on the door. A short while later, Davy answered - and he looked far from pleased to see his former band mate.
"What do you want?" Davy asked bluntly.
Mike pushed past Davy into the house. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked angrily.
Davy scrunched his face up. "Tell you what?" He questioned, totally perplexed.
"That Micky's been strugglin' again." Mike said.
"How do you know about that?" Davy wondered.
"I spoke to Samantha. I was at the hospital." Mike hit back, standing over Davy. "Why didn't you tell me he was a mess again?"
"For a start, it's none of your damn business." Davy snapped. "And secondly, he's not a mess. He's nothing like he was before, he's not doing any of that crap he did last year. It's just the drinking that's the issue."
"Just the drinking?" Mike asked, raising his voice. "It was the drinkin' that might've caused his accident. They found alcohol in his system."
Davy looked at Mike blankly - this was clearly new information to him. "Well I didn't know that." He said.
Mike stepped forward. "You were meant to be lookin' out for him."
"Er, excuse me!" Davy said, scrunching his face up in disbelief. "Are you trying to tell me you think this is my fault?"
"You should've told me that he hadn't been coping!" Mike shouted.
"Why?!" Davy hit back, exasperated. "It's nothing to do with you!"
"I could've tried to help!"
"How? What would you have done?" Davy questioned. "Do you really think it's that fucking simple? I've been keeping an eye on him, I've been listening to him talk about his shit, there's not a lot else I can do!"
"You should've done more." Mike stressed, leaning forward and staring at Davy almost desperately.
"Like what?!" Davy shouted. "He's not a fucking child; he's a 25-year-old man who I can't control. He's been trying his best to sort himself out but it's not that easy. Do you honestly think you could just click your fingers and everything would be fine and groovy again?"
Mike buried his face in his hands.
"It's not up to me to fill you in on every little detail of his life." Davy spat. "If you were so bothered about him you could've approached him yourself, but you didn't."
Mike pulled his hands away from his face and glared at Davy. "I thought he was okay." He hissed.
"He was okay." Davy hit back. "But when Sammy and the baby left he went downhill again. He's so hung-up on all his shit but he's been trying his best to shake it. He drinks a lot, but he's not constantly drunk like he used to be. I don't- I don't get why he would go out on his bike if he'd been drinking. That's not like him. He might still be a bit screwed up but he's nothing like he was last year."
"But you still should've told me." Mike said, gripping his hair.
"Why the fuck do you even care anyway?" Davy snapped. "You think you can barge in here and basically make out that this is all my fault, when in fact if it's anyone's fault, it's yours! You've just been carrying on like everything is fine and dandy while Micky has totally fucked his life up. It's too late to start acting like you care now. Micky has been fairly certain for months that you don't give a shit about him."
Mike wanted to cry. "That ain't true."
"Isn't it?" Davy spat. "Drop the act, Michael. You're probably only worried about him because you think his dying words will be to confess your dirty little secret."
Mike grabbed Davy by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "Don't you fucking say that!" He shouted, his voice breaking. "I love him! I fucking love him!"
Davy's eyes were wide as he stared at the broken Texan. Mike instantly let Davy go and turned away as he broke down completely.
"I'd trade places with him right this second if I could." Mike cried, covering his face with his hands. "I'd die for him. I'd k-kill for him." Mike turned around to face a stunned looking Davy. "Don't you fucking say I-I don't give a shit about him." He sobbed, his voice breaking and trembling. "Everythin' I've ever done has been to try and make him happy and I- I got it wrong. I-I made a mistake. I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be okay. He was supposed to be happy and move on and not-not love me anymore."
Mike covered his face with hands again, sniffing and spluttering as his emotions truly overcame him. All Davy could do was stand there, almost frozen to the spot in pure shock at seeing Mike in such a broken and emotional state.
"All I ever wanted was for him to be happy." Mike sobbed pathetically into his hands. "I couldn't make him happy. I couldn't give him what he wanted so that's- that's why I had to leave him. I wanted to protect him. I-I thought I was protecting him."
Davy was silent before he finally managed to speak. "You couldn't protect him from himself though." He said quietly.
Mike emerged from his hands and looked at the Englishman through blurry, tear-filled eyes. "B-But I couldn't give him what he wanted."
"Yes you could." Davy said, staring the Texan in the eye as if he was trying to get his point across. "Don't you get it?"
Mike looked at Davy in confusion, unable to understand what the much shorter man meant.
"He just wanted you." Davy told him. "He still does. Whatever he tries to do, nothing works - he can't get over you."
Mike lifted his shaking hand to his face as a fresh batch of tears filled his eyes.
"He told me everything, you know." Davy said. "He told me why you left him, and I get it. I understand it. And it's fairly obvious why you had reason to believe he wouldn't deal with it if people found out or things didn't go to plan. Micky's got a few issues - I think we've all realised that over the past 6 months or so. He doesn't half make things worse for himself. He has this self-destructive nature that just makes a bad situation ten times worse. It's...it's not your fault he's like that. You didn't mess him up; he messed himself up."
"I didn't think he'd be like this." Mike sniffed. "I-I had no idea he'd take everything so badly."
"A lot of people turn to booze when they're trying to deal with emotional shit," Davy begun. "But Micky took it a bit far, and he made some bad decisions that have managed to mess with his head even more. He got mixed up with some dodgy people, he did cocaine which totally fucks with people's heads... it's not just about you, Mike."
Mike rubbed his eyes. "You said that if anyone was to blame then it was me." He said.
Davy looked away. "Yeah well I was wrong." He muttered, his pride clearly making it a little difficult for him to admit his mistake. "I shouldn't have said that."
"You were right though." Mike said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "If I hadn't have left him then none of this would've happened."
Davy looked up. "You don't know that. What happened was an accident."
Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he run his fingers through his hair. "I never wanted to leave him." He admitted quietly. "I was so sure I was doin' the right thing."
"Yeah," Davy sighed. "I can understand that. It doesn't take a genius to work out what a mess it'd be if too many people found out about this."
Mike was beginning to compose himself, although he couldn't look Davy in the eye. "I knew as long as he was with me he could never be a hundred percent happy. He'd either have to lie or deal with people knowin' the truth."
"Well, for what it's worth, me and Linda know the truth, and Samantha knows the truth, and we've all taken it pretty well." Davy said. "Even Sammy, for Christ's sakes. Okay, so she doesn't know about you as such, but she knows Micky is hung up on a dude. And she hasn't stopped him from seeing Ami."
Mike looked up - he'd never thought of it like that. He'd had so much to think about since learning of Micky's accident that he hadn't even considered the fact that Samantha knew the truth about Micky's sexuality and hadn't stopped him from seeing his daughter.
"You talk about him being a hundred percent happy," Davy begun. "Well that doesn't exist. There's no such thing as a hundred percent happiness. Whoever you are, whatever you do, there's always going to be some issue. That's just life."
Mike watched Davy.
"Things may not have been perfect with you, but that's just it; nothing is ever perfect." Davy told him. "You were fighting for something that doesn't even exist."
Mike was finding it hard to believe that Davy of all people was talking so much complete sense. Mike had never looked at it like that before; he'd had complete tunnel-vision and never truly considered that his decision to leave Micky might not have been the right one.
Davy shrugged his shoulders. "He loves you." He said casually. "God knows why, but he does. And it's pretty clear to me now that you love him too."
Mike's cheeks burnt red and he suddenly became aware of his surroundings and his company. Mike literally couldn't believe that he'd cried in front of Davy and pretty much spilled his heart open to him. And what shocked Mike even more was that Davy was not only hearing him out, but trying to help him out, too.
"What are you saying?" Mike asked quietly.
"Well... have you been happy since you and Mick broke up?" Davy asked.
Mike watched Davy for a moment before looking down and shaking his head. "No." He admitted.
"Well Micky sure as hell ain't been happy either." Davy responded. "I think that says it all really."
Mike looked up. He sniffed hard again and sucked a shaky breath in. "What if it's too late? What if- what if he dies?"
Davy shook his head. "We can't think like that." He said. "We have to be positive."
"He's too young to- He has so much to live for." Mike said as he begun to panic again. "I can't- I don't know what I'd do. H-He has a daughter."
"Stop it." Davy said bluntly. "What did I just say? He's going to be fine."
Mike hung his head as an awkward silence fell upon the pair. Mike was annoyed that he'd let his guard down around Davy, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel relieved that he'd managed to speak about his feelings for the first time in 6 months.
"Look, I'm going to the hospital again later." Davy said, prompting Mike to look up. "I'll let you know if there's any change, but I really think it'd be best if you tried to steer clear."
"I don't think I can." Mike whispered.
Davy sighed. "I'll tell you if there's any news, okay? I can call you tonight or something." He said.
Mike scratched his head. "Okay." He said reluctantly.
Another silence fell upon the pair. Mike played with his hands uncomfortably while Davy shifted awkwardly on his feet. Mike felt like he was beginning to take hold of his senses again, and he felt completely embarrassed that he'd emotionally exposed himself to his former band mate.
"I should go." Mike said coolly.
Davy nodded as Mike walked towards the door. Just as the Texan got the door open to step outside, Davy grabbed his arm to stop him. "He will be okay, you know." Davy said.
Mike stared at the Englishman for a moment. "He better be." He said.