Isolation

Coming home

Mike shielded his eyes with his hand as he walked out into the sun; Micky was by his side. Almost instantly, Peter ran towards them from the parking lot.

"MIKE!" He yelled, attacking the Texan with a hug. He was startled by the affection, almost collapsing from the force of the hug.

"Hey, Peter." He laughed lightly.

"Be gentle," Micky ordered, walking over. "He only got out of the hospital about two minutes ago."

"It's fine." Mike smiled, returning the hug.

"I missed you," Peter cried. "I was so worried."

"Peter!" Davy called out, trotting over to the group. "Don't do that again."

"Do what?" He asked innocently, turning his tear-filled eyes to the Brit but still not taking his arms off Mike. Davy sighed.

"Run off across the parking lot without a second thought. You could've been hurt."

Peter frowned.

"I'm sorry, Davy," he said in a guilty whisper, "I got excited."

"It's fine." He turned his attention to Mike and smiled for a second. "We're-uh, we're glad you're back, Mike."

"Glad to be back." He looked down at Peter, who hadn't even loosened his tight grip around him. "Mind letting me go, Pete?"

He blushed and pulled away, looking down. "Sorry." He muttered again.

"Don't worry about it, Peter." Micky stepped in. "It's fine."

Peter grinned, looking back up at Mike.

"I missed you."

"We all did," Davy interjected.

Micky nodded and clapped his hands once. They all turned to look at him.

"Alright," he said proudly, "let's go home! Where'd you park the car?"

Mike smiled but said nothing. He just watched from the outside as the three talked, he couldn't pay attention to what they were saying. They began to walk and didn't seem to notice when Mike stopped suddenly. He closed his eyes, a migraine beginning to form.

"Mike?" A distant voice called him, coming closer. "Hey, Mike. Are you good?"

He opened his eyes to see Micky in front of him.

"Yeah," he whispered, rubbing his head, "just a little headache. That's all."

Micky frowned, thinking deeply about something before he nodded.

"Would you like Peter to just bring the car over here?"

"No," Mike muttered after a moment. "I'm fine."

Micky didn't believe it but knew better than to argue with him on it. He led Mike to the car. Peter and Davy were already waiting for them beside it. By instinct, Mike reached for the door to the driver's seat. He jumped when Micky's hands grabbed his shoulders and walked him to the back seat.

"Micky?" He turned around to face the culprit, who shrugged.

"It may be better if you don't drive for a little while. Especially if you have a headache."

Mike was about to object before he stopped himself, plopping himself down in the back seat. Micky went onto the other side and sat beside him with a smile. Davy sat in the passenger's seat, tapping a melody on the armrest, and Peter in the driver's seat. When Peter sat down, Mike's eyes widened.

"Peter's gonna drive?"

"He's actually a good driver," Davy explained. "Probably the safest one out of all of us."

Micky cringed a little at the last part and looked at Mike, who hadn't seemed to catch what had been said. He sighed with relief.

"Besides," Davy continued, "I doubt you wanted Micky's driving on your first day back."

Micky weaved around the chair and gave the Brit a punch in the arm.

"Ow!" He yelped, "what was that for?"

"For insulting my feelings." He said dramatically, causing Davy to laugh. Once again, Mike didn't say anything. He just watched them and smiled slightly before gazing out the window. He stayed silent even when the car was pulling into the driveway.

"Hey, Mike!" Micky grinned but froze when he didn't respond.

"Mike?" He asked again. He looked over to see that he had fallen asleep. Micky smiled and shook his shoulder gently.

"Hey, Mike." His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Micky, a confused expression on his face.

"We're home."