Isolation

Something next to normal

One morning, Micky woke up to a sound he hadn't heard in a while. He stood up quickly and hesitantly opened the bedroom door, unsure if it was even real. The soft strumming of a guitar had become louder, and Micky grinned at the thought. He almost didn't believe it, but the more he listened, the more he knew it was true.

Mike was playing guitar.

He hurried down the stairs and found Davy and Peter in the kitchen, watching Mike with the same amazement. He was sitting on the bandstand, playing. Completely lost in the music, he didn't even seem to notice they were there, to begin with.

Davy smiled when he saw Micky.

"Peter woke me up when he heard him. I didn't believe it at first."

Peter looked up at the sound of his name and beamed, almost instantly turning his gaze back to Mike.

"He hasn't touched his guitar this whole time," Davy continued. "We were actually talking about it earlier. It was worrying Peter a lot."

Peter nodded and looked down, that feeling of worry returning. But it didn't last for very long. He glanced back over at Mike, and he smiled wide.

"But this morning, he sat down, tuned it, and has been playing for a few hours now."

"I missed waking up to him playing," Micky sighed, relieved, and sat down. He couldn't take his eyes off of Mike.

"I just missed him," Peter said, a hint of sadness in his tone. Nobody knew what to say to that, but they were all thinking the same thing.

It was a strangely emotional experience. It seemed so...normal. So natural and familiar. And after so long of nothing being normal, it seemed so wonderful and such a relief to just see Mike play his guitar.

He started to hum a melody as he played, one none of them recognized. Micky lit up.

"Is he writing something in front of us?" He beamed, and the others had similar expressions.

"I don't know, maybe?"

"It sounds nice," Peter smiled as he listened.

Mike tried to play and hum the beginnings of a melody, but it didn't last for long. His face changed into a frown, and his playing suffered when realized. He couldn't concentrate on both playing and singing at the same time. He could do one or the other, but when he put them together...he tried to keep going, but his playing became off-beat and clunky, his quiet singing out of key. He stopped abruptly with a frustrated yell, his hands going over his head, and catching the others off guard.

"You good there, Mike?" Micky frowned, approaching him slowly. He sat down beside him and gently placed his hand on the man's shoulder. He closed his eyes and tensed up at the touch, but said nothing.

"Mike?" Davy asked hesitantly. "What is it?"

"When..." Mike started, keeping his eyes closed tight. "When, when...?"

"When, what?"

"Davy," Peter shot him a look. "Don't interrupt. Just let him get there."

They waited a few minutes as Mike fumbled through the words, trying to put together what he wanted to say. When he finally found it, he opened his eyes and stared up at Micky.

"When can we play again?"

Micky frowned, a little confused by the question. He scooted a little closer, the others coming to and forming a semi-circle around Mike. He quickly became flustered with the attention and looked down, trying to take his guitar strap off, but being stopped by Micky.

"What do you mean?"

"Like playing gigs and stuff?" Davy suggested. Mike shook his head and muttered to himself. Peter frowned and turned his head, trying to get Mike to look up at him.

"What was that?" He asked softly, and Mike shook his head again, repeating the jumbled phrase to himself.

"Michael...?"

He finally looked up, and Peter smiled at him.

"Hi, Michael," he whispered, and Mike seemed to calm down when he did. "What were you saying earlier?"

He stared at Peter, head slightly cocked to the side in confusion. Davy sighed and jumped in.

"You were asking when we'd play again," he prompted, hoping it might remind him. "And I thought you meant playing gigs, but you shook your head and said-"

"I don't wanna sing," he blurted out suddenly, repeating the phrase that stressed him out before.

"But people love your voice, Mike, and you-!" Micky interjected, only to be cut off by Davy.

"Micky!" He said sternly, and Micky lost his train of thought. Both Davy and Peter were shooting him with similar looks of disapproval. Peter sighed and turned his focus back to Mike.

"Okay," he said gently with a slight nod. "Well, if you didn't sing, would you still want to go out and play?"

Mike looked at him for a moment, genuinely considering the offer. After a moment he gave a hesitant nod.

"Okay," Peter smiled and pulled Mike into a hug. He was startled by the affection but eased into it and returned the hug moments later.

As they pulled away, Micky clapped his hands, causing Mike to jump.

"Alright, then!" He declared proudly. "Guess that means we'll be back to job searching again. What do ya say, Mike?"

Mike sighed and shook his head, standing up. He pushed past the others and sat down on the stairs with his guitar. Davy watched his every move carefully, a frown coming on his face. He couldn't share Micky's excitement. There was something else on his mind.

"Hey, Micky?" He called out, not taking his eyes off of Mike who seemed to be struggling to play the guitar in his hands. "How are we going to do this? I mean, he's still not...all there, y'know."

Micky finally noticed Mike and sighed.

"I know, but...if Mike wants to play again, I think we should let him," he shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it'll help him if he gets out there again. Some structure and familiarity might be good for him."

Mike played louder, once again, entirely oblivious to the conversation around him. He seemed to fix whatever problem was bothering him. Until he hit a wrong note, that is, and he froze, confused. He looked at Micky and Davy, silently asking them why it didn't sound right.

"I just hope you're right, Micky."