Petite Michel

6

Davy woke up early the next morning. He was up before the other two, which was unusual. He was usually one of the last ones up. He sighed and tried to be as quiet as he could as he made his way out of the room, carefully creeping down the stairs. He flicked on the living room light and jumped in fear when he saw the small figure curled up on the couch.

Confused slightly, he made his way closer. It took him a minute to realize it was Mike sitting there and remember what had happened the day before.

"Hey..." he said with a soft smile. "How are you?"

Mike didn't answer as Davy noticed that he was holding onto his hat, staring down at it.

"Did you get any sleep?" He asked and Mike sighed and shook his head sadly.

"No, not really..." he said darkly with a sigh. Davy nodded slowly and sat down beside his friend on the couch.

"Hey, Mike," he smiled slightly as he pulled something from his coat pocket. "I got something for you."

Mike didn't seem interested until he saw Davy pull out a familiar red box. Davy smiled and reached inside, pulling out a cigarette and handing it to Mike. It was almost the size of him.

"Micky told me you wanted one," he said, looking at Mike sadly as he seemed to struggle to hold it. "Sorry if you had a rough night."

Mike didn't say anything as he rested the butt of the giant cigarette against his knee, keeping it upright.

"It's fine," he sighed. "It's not like you could've done anything."

Davy frowned and turned to him, genuinely upset by the statement.

"We could've helped you..."

Mike scoffed.

"No, you couldn't have," he laughed. "It's not like there was anything to do that would help."

Mike looked up at him, noticing the hurt look in Davy's eyes. He groaned.

"It's fine, I'm fine," he said, becoming annoyed. "Please, it's okay. Did you bring a lighter?"

Davy's eyes widened slightly. He wasn't serious...was he?

"Mike..." Davy started with a worried tone. "I don't think this is the greatest idea..."

"Why not?" Mike asked, glaring at him.

When Davy didn't answer right away, Mike let out a frustrated yell, hurling the cigarette across the couch and curling himself into a ball. Davy frowned and leaned in.

"Are you okay?" He asked gently, rubbing his finger on Mike's back. He began to cry.

"I-I'm s-s-so p-pathetic a-and..." he sobbed, beginning to hide underneath his hat. "I-I hate this, Davy..."

"I'm sorry," Davy whispered. "I know."

Mike cried and began to fight himself away from Davy, only tangling himself in the hat more and slipping off the couch. Davy sighed and got down on his knees, pulling off the hat to reveal his friend.

"Are you okay?"

"I-I hate myself!" Mike sobbed, latching onto his hat and crying into it like a pillow.

"Don't say that..." Davy whispered, rubbing his hand on Mike's back.

"IT'S TRUE! I H-HATE MYSELF! I WISH I WAS NEVER EVEN-!" Mike screamed, cutting himself off with another sob.

"Mike..." he frowned as Mike only began to cry more.

"Th-this is a-all s-so awful!" He yelled, shaking his head furiously. "I-I f-f-feel so awful."

"I'm sorry," Davy sighed. "But it's okay."

"N-nothing i-is okay..."

Davy sat upright and reached for the cigarette for Mike. He sighed, debating it with himself before tapping Mike on the back. Mike looked up sadly as Davy handed it to him with a smile on his face.

"I-I..." Mike started, tears filling into his eyes.

"Don't have all of it," Davy said sternly. "But it'll take a little bit of the edge off. It might make you feel better."

Mike nodded.

"Th-thanks..."

"Hold onto it," Davy said as he stood. "Let me get you a lighter."

Mike watched as Davy went to grab a match box from a kitchen drawer, bringing it back over to the ground. He smiled.

"You wanna get back on the couch?" Davy asked. Mike frowned, thinking about it, before slowly shaking his head.

"Alright," he shrugged, sitting back on the ground with Mike. He pulled out a match and struck it against the side of the box, Mike jumped as the flame burst out on the match. Davy lit the cigarette, which was propped up against Mike's legs.

He hesitantly took in a small inhale and closed his eyes as he exhaled. Even after only one puff, Mike was already much calmer. Davy smiled.

"Feeling better?" Davy asked, and Mike, while still ashamed, nodded slowly. Davy took the cigarette away from Mike and put it out.

"D-davy?" Mike asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah?"

Mike could feel the question almost come up. It was right there on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to ask it. He quickly sighed and shook his head, smiling slightly.

"Forget it," he said, curling under the hat. "It's nothing."

Davy frowned, wanting to tell him it wasn't nothing if it bothered him. Still, he nodded and sat beside him.

"Okay, Mike," he said, placing his hand on the hat. "We can just pretend that this never happened."

"Good," Mike's voice said from underneath the wool hat, Davy had to smile slightly.

"You're okay, Mike. It's okay."

Mike didn't answer him. Pulling away the hat, Davy smiling, confirming his thought that Mike had, indeed, already fallen asleep right there. He sighed and gently lifted his friend in his hands, laying him down on the couch pillow.

"Try to get some rest, okay?" Davy asked, wrapping the hat around him like a blanket. "We're gonna have a lot to do tomorrow, and you should probably try to get at least a little bit of sleep."