Isolation

Is he okay?

Mike didn't say much the first few days. He was quiet, even for Mike Nesmith's standards. When he did speak, it was only ever about how his head hurt and that he wanted to be left alone. The others tried to help him out or include him in their fun, but he always rejected it. Choosing only to watch them in curious silence. He was just like he was years before.

"Hey, Mike?" Micky called out from the kitchen.

Mike groaned and looked over at him, not getting up from the couch he was laying on.

"Are you sure that you don't want something for that headache? You've been on the couch all day."

"I'm fine," he muttered, "that stuff doesn't work anyway."

"It's worth a shot if you're in pain." Peter shrugged. Mike shook his head.

"Whatever, I only thought it might help." Micky said with a deep sigh.

"I'm fine," he said again, "don't need it..."

His voice trailed off at the end. Davy peeked over to see that Mike had indeed knocked himself out.

"Aw," he cooed quietly. "Look at him."

The other two glanced over, and Micky grinned.

"Innit he just adorable?" He joked, causing Peter to smile a little bit too.

When Peter looked back over at Mike, worry came over him.

"He's been doing that a lot." He said, sadly.

"Doing what?"

"Having headaches and then wearing himself out."

"Yeah, he has." Davy agreed, walking over to Peter.

"But I don't think it's something to worry about. Mike never used to get any sleep, so at least he's getting some rest now." Micky piped in.

"Yeah," Davy smiled, "sleeping's gotta be better than being awake and in pain."

Peter looked back at Mike, a sudden realization coming to him.

"He's trying to remember, isn't he?" He asked sadly.

"We haven't done anything for the past few days. What is there to try and remember?" Davy asked, frowning, but Micky understood.

"Everything," Micky explained, the weight of the realization kicking in.

Davy's eyes widened as he thought about it.

"Oh," he said, finally understanding. Tears filled in Peter's eyes and he turned away.

"Poor Mike, no wonder he has so many headaches."

"Hey, Pete." Micky pulled the crying man into a hug, "it'll be fine, honest."

Once Peter had calmed down, Micky pulled away and smiled.

"Feel any better?"

Peter nodded and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

The silence that followed was interrupted by a faint groan and the sound of Mike rolling over in his sleep.

"What should we do?" Davy sighed, not taking his eyes off of Mike.

"We should let him sleep." Peter declared. Micky smiled with a nod.

"I second that," he agreed.

"So, what do we do?" Davy laughed silently, and Peter frowned.

"We let him sleep." He repeated, and Micky sighed.

"No, Pete. He means what are we going to while Mike is sleeping."

"Oh. I don't know."

"That's okay, Peter. We can figure something out."

"We could go and walk on the beach?" He suggested after some thought.

"Sure, that sounds nice."

Davy nodded in agreement and went to the bedroom to change.

"You know, it'll probably only be for a walk, Davy," Micky called through the door. "You don't need to get into a suit if you don't want to."

"I don't want my shorts to get wet!"

"Whatever." He smirked and sat beside Peter, who was scribbling on a notepad.

"Whatcha writing?"

"I'm writing a note for Mike so he knows where we are when he wakes up." Peter smiled proudly.

"That's nice of you, Pete."

The bedroom door opened, revealing Davy in an unbuttoned flannel and swim shorts.

"You ready to go?" He asked the two, who nodded in unison. As Micky and Davy bounced out, Peter left his note on the kitchen table and whispered a "bye, Mike" before heading out with the others.

"Mike, we went out to the beach for a little while. Feel free to join us if you're feeling any better. Love Peter :)"