Isolation

Fighting

Peter couldn't sleep. The whole night, he kept waking up from the same nightmare. And each time, he'd stand up and look around. And he wouldn't go back to bed until he made sure that Mike was okay. After the fourth time that night, he laid back down on the carpet and closed his eyes.

"Hey, are you up?" A whispered voice came from above him, shaking him gently.

"Mike...?" Peter slurred, slowly waking up.

"Eh, close enough."

Peter opened his eyes and blinked a few times before he saw Micky smile.

"Good morning, sunshine. How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Peter lied, sitting up. "Mike!" He gasped and jumped up to see that he was still asleep and okay.

"I'm guessing we had the same dream, then, huh?" Micky stood slowly with a heavy sigh. "Did he ever wake up?"

"Yeah," Peter looked at the clock. 5:36, it read. "A few hours ago. It wasn't for long."

Micky nodded.

"Poor guy..." he sighed, looking over at Mike.

"Micky," Peter started, unsure of if he should continue. "We talked about a lot of things."

"What kinds of 'things?'" Micky frowned, taking a step towards Peter.

"The kinds of things Mike would either thank me for telling or get really mad at me for telling." Peter looked down at his hands. "The kinds of things that I don't want to risk because I'm Peter and I always mess everything up."

"Oh, Peter." Micky sighed and put his arm around him. "One, you don't always mess everything up. Sometimes you do, but we all sometimes do."

He smiled slightly and nodded.

"And two, Mike wouldn't hold a grudge if you told me. He wouldn't even remember it."

Peter sighed and looked back at Micky with sad eyes.

"Yeah, but I don't want to risk it. He'll still be upset at us in the moment."

Micky frowned and looked back between Mike and Peter.

"You're a good friend, Pete," he said after a while. "You don't have to get into specifics if you don't want to, but is he okay?"

He nodded with a smile.

"He is. Don't worry."

"I'm afraid I can't promise you that, Peter." He said with a sad laugh. "Come on, we should let him rest."

Peter nodded and the two walked downstairs as quietly as they could. The kitchen light was on and sitting at the table was a half-asleep Davy Jones. He smiled at them.

"You too?" He asked with a sigh.

"Yeah," Micky nodded, not needing any explanation to know what he was talking about.

Davy sighed and closed his eyes, leaning backward.

"Man, what're we going to do?"

"I don't know," Micky shook his head. "But it'll be okay, I promise it will be."

"You keep saying that, but-!"

"Fellas," Peter interrupted, getting in between the two. "Please don't fight. It's late, we're tired, and arguing won't get any of us anywhere. And it certainly won't help Mike at all."

"Neither is what we've been doing, Peter!" Davy stood up, angrily. "That's getting us nowhere, too. That's where we are right now. Nowhere!"

"At least Peter and I have at least been trying to help him, Davy!" Micky pushed past Peter to face Davy. "And what have you been doing in that time? Nothing! Nothing but going out with your girl!"

Davy slammed down the chair and marched up to Micky, looking up and glaring at him angrily.

"Leave her out of this!"

"Or you'll what?"

"Micky, Davy, please!" Peter cried out but they didn't listen. Davy tackled Micky to the ground and pretty soon, a fight broke out between them. In all the times they teased each other or wrestled, or anything over the years, they never truly fought. Not like this. Peter was in tears as he tried to get Davy off of Micky. Every time he did, Davy was strong enough to pull himself out of Peter's grip.

At one point, though, Peter was trying to hold the angry Brit back. Just like the times before, he was able to pull away from the hold but pushed Peter backward, slamming him against the wall. With enough force to knock him down onto the ground.

"Stay out of this!"

Peter let out a sob and Davy softened almost instantly.

"Oh, Peter," he approached him slowly. "You know I didn't mean it."

"Look what you did, Davy," Micky said, standing up and wiping his face with his arm.

"What I did? You started it!"

"STOP IT!" Peter screamed, and the two froze in place. Peter never raised his voice. "Please, just stop it. Why do you have to fight? Fighting only makes it worse."

Neither said anything and just looked down at the ground guiltily.

"I'm going to go up and check on Mike," Peter sighed as he slowly made it up to his feet. "When I get back, you two better have apologized and worked it out through compromise, not fighting."

"I'm sorry, Peter," Davy said softly, and Peter nodded.

"I know," he said as he made his way up the stairs. "But I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."