Isolation

I can't

Mike crept into the house. His eyes were barely open and he was holding the newspaper in his hands.

"Morning," he slurred, half-asleep, setting the crumbled paper on the kitchen table. "Brought the paper."

"Mike, it's four pm. Micky got the paper this morning." Davy said quietly.

"Oh...kay." Mike slipped his shoes off, stumbling slightly as he tried to walk at the same time. He made it to the couch and plopped himself down, closing his eyes.

"Mike, where were you?" Micky wasted no time getting straight to the point. Mike had been out for hours. That whole time, they had no idea where he was. He didn't respond.

"Where were you?" Davy asked again, more concerned than upset.

"Hmm?" Mike opened his eyes and turned his head to see all three of the other Monkees looking back at him.

"Where were you?" Micky repeated.

"Mmm, here," Mike said after a little thought, closing his eyes again. Davy cracked a smile, he couldn't help it. It quickly faded when Micky shot him a look.

"Before here, Mike. Where were you before here?"

"Texas."

Micky rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, laughing a little to himself.

"Whatever."

"Whatever," Mike repeated with a yawn.

"Okay, Mike. We'll let you sleep." Peter smiled and stood up.

Mike smiled for a second and mouthed "thank you" before drifting off.

The group walked back and sat at the kitchen table, realizing they weren't getting anywhere.

"So, what do we do?"

"Talk to him when he's more awake, I guess."

"He seems fine," Peter defended. "If he wants to go out, he should be allowed to go out."

"Peter," Micky said sternly, "you know it's more than that."

He sighed and sat down. He glanced back over at Mike and nudged Micky in the arm to get him to look.

"What was that?" Micky asked softly. Mike was muttering something under his breath. He repeated it a little louder but it was still inaudible.

"You're gonna need to speak up, Mike."

"Tired!" He yelled, sitting upright, before groaning and laying back down.

"Tired?" Micky asked, clarifying. Mike's speech was pretty jumbled and slurred at the moment.

"'M tired," He complained, this time not moving at all.

"How are you tired?" Davy asked, now a little worried. "You've done practically nothing but sleep for weeks!"

"I dunno," Mike said giggling like he was up to something.

"Mike, are you feeling alright?" Peter frowned, slowly walking over to the couch.

"Yeah...Peter. Feelin' ~groovy~." Mike said with a large grin. Peter couldn't help but smile a little too.

"Okay, Mike. Well, just keep on keeping on."

"Wi-ill do."

As Peter went back to the others, the smile quickly faded.

"I think there's something wrong with him...I've never seen him like this."

Mike suddenly burst out into laughter at nothing, scaring Peter a little.

"Nothing's wrong!" He called out from the couch, still laughing lightly. "Everything's ~groovy~, Peter!"