Isolation

Confessions

"Hi, Mike," a voice whispered softly as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and frowned at the figure beside him.

"What...happened...?" Mike asked, sitting upright. A wave of vertigo hit him, and he plopped back down onto the couch.

"Nothing you need to worry about." The person smiled at him. Mike frowned, trying to concentrate and recognize the face of the person beside him. He couldn't, no matter how he tried.

"Who are you?"

"A friend," was all he said.

"Oh," he looked around. The two were alone.

"Where is everyone...?"

"Peter's outside right now, Micky's upstairs," he explained with a slight shrug. "I don't know where Davy is. Probably out with that girl of his, but I never know with him."

Mike nodded, a slight frown forming on his face. How did this guy know Micky, Peter, and Davy when Mike had never seen him before?

"What happened?" He asked again, this time not sitting up.

The person sighed and looked down.

"You had an...episode. You've been having them a lot, actually."

"Oh," Mike looked down, having an idea of what that might have meant.

"Are you alright?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Huh?" He looked up, and the person repeated the question. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

He nodded slowly. He knew something more was going on but chose not to push it.

"Dinner was good," he shrugged, trying to start small talk.

"Dinner?" Mike frowned. What did they have for dinner, again?

"It was the soup Peter made," the person clarified, knowing what Mike was thinking. Instantly, Mike's eyes went wide as he remembered the last time Peter made soup.

"Don't tell me it was..."

"It wasn't the root beer soup," he smiled, once again reading his mind.

This time, Mike was less impressed. He felt more uneasy that this person knew what he was thinking.

"How do you know about that?"

"Oh," he sat up a little. "Peter had offered to make it earlier. Micky had jumped in to 'save the day.' His words, not mine. He told me about the last time Peter made root beer soup, how it was meant as a celebration dish or something? Anyway, it didn't go well."

"Yeah," Mike sighed, remembering it himself.

"But no, he and Micky made some vegetable parsley soup. It was actually pretty good."

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two before Mike spoke up.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"No," he said with a heavy sigh. "I don't think you would."

Mike frowned, confused by the answer. He was about to speak again when he was cut off with a hand.

"Look, I know you're tired and upset. Don't worry about anything right now. Just rest, and it'll be okay."

"Mmm," Mike groaned, closing his eyes. "It's never okay."

"What was that?" The person came a little closer and put his hand on Mike's. Mike gasped and quickly pulled it away, jolting upright as he did.

"Mike," the stranger said with a sympathetic smile. "It's okay, you're okay now."

"I'm okay," Mike repeated with a frown. Almost like he was trying to make himself believe it too.

"Yes, you're okay. You're home."

"Home?" He looked around, half expecting to be in some strange world. But there he was, in the living room of the Pad.

"Yes," he smiled. "Just rest."

Mike nodded slowly and laid back down, closing his eyes.

The person looked down, hands beginning to tremble nervously as he thought to himself.

"I had just come here to check in," River started once he was certain Mike wasn't listening. "You probably don't remember me or even care about me if you did, but um...I care about you quite a bit actually, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. It's weird, I know, but I know you've been through a lot already, and I don't want to add to that in any way. I just wanted to see you, is all. You know? If that makes any sense? I don't know what I'm saying. I'm sorry. I just wanted to come here and make sure you were okay."

"'M okay," Mike slurred, not opening his eyes. River froze and felt the blood drain from his face.

How much of that did he hear?