I Wanna Be Free

Imaginary Friends

"Good morning," Peter said with a smile as he came down the stairs. The figure sitting on the windowsill jumped up at the noise, knocking him off.

"Oh, sorry," Peter said quickly, running toward him. "Are you okay?"

The person smiled and nodded.

"It's alright, Peter," he said, brushing himself off as he made it back to his feet. "I'm fine."

Peter smiled and nodded.

"Well, that's good," he said cheerfully, making his way into the kitchen. The person nodded, propping himself back up on the windowsill.

"Peter?" He asked, pressing his head against the window.

"Yeah, Davy?" Peter asked, keeping the smile on his face as he turned around.

Davy shrugged, letting out a sigh.

"I...n-never mind..." he muttered, bringing his knees up to his chest.

Peter frowned but nodded. Davy could hear the sounds of water running and when he looked over, Peter had turned the lights on and now had a teapot on the stove.

"What're you doing up this early?" Davy asked and Peter shrugged, looking back down at the teapot. It was then that Davy noticed that the teapot, which had once been his, was now painted to look like an elephant. Peter smiled when he saw his friend was looking at it.

"Do you like it?" He asked hopefully. His face fell instantly when he saw Davy's almost horrified expression.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, turning away. "I-I only thought..."

He didn't mean to upset Davy. He had only thought it would make him smile, he just wanted his friend to be happy.

After a long moment of silence, Davy sighed and looked down.

"I-it's fine," he said quietly. "Just forget about it."

"Davy?" Peter asked as gently as he possibly could, making his way over toward the man.

"I said forget about it!" He snapped, causing the lights to flicker for a moment. Peter quickly stopped in his tracks and threw his hands up in defense.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Peter cried out. "I can paint it back if you want me to."

Davy sighed and hid his face in his hands as the lights returned to normal. Peter frowned and got down on his knees beside him.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" He asked, putting on a smile. "I made enough for all four of us."

"I-I c-c-can't have it P-Peter," Davy stammered, his voice breaking.

"That's okay," Peter whispered, keeping his smile. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Davy didn't answer that and Peter let out a slight sigh, now asking the question he feared.

"Do you want me to paint it back?" He asked, looking down at his hands. "I-I mean, I can if you want me to. I-I only thought that it would—"

"I know what you thought, Peter."

Davy ran his hands through his hair, now turning his gaze out to the water outside the window.

"So...?"

"Don't," the Brit said after a moment of thought. "I-it's fine."

"You sure?" Peter clarified, not sure he was hearing him right. Davy smiled slightly and nodded, tears filling in his eyes.

"Y-yeah," he said. "I-I-I've had it for years already and—"

"Peter?"

A new voice came from up stairs, causing both to look up. Mike was standing there, halfway down the steps as he stared right at him.

"What's going on down here?" was all he asked.

"Oh!" Peter smiled, jumping up. "I-I made tea and—what're you doing?"

Mike was now downstairs looking around the living room, a frown on his face.

"Looking," he said. "It sounded like there was someone down here."

"Oh, don't worry, it's just Davy," Peter smiled.

"Davy?" Mike asked, eyebrows raising. "At 2 in the morning?"

Peter shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep and he was already down here and..."

He turned over his shoulder and frowned, Davy was gone.

"Davy?" He called out and Mike let out a sigh. Ever since they moved in, Mike and Micky always heard about Peter's talks with "Davy". They were both willing to play along with it for awhile but there was a moment when they couldn't anymore.

"He was just here," Peter said, continuing to look around. "Honest. You gotta believe me."

"I believe ya," Mike sighed, wrapping an arm around him. "But it's late and we have an early morning. Probably about time you said good night to Davy."

Peter glared up at him. He didn't understand how Mike could say he believed him and yet still say things like that. But he knew better than to pick an argument with Mike, especially this early in the morning.

"Good night Davy," Peter muttered, dejected as Mike led him back up the stairs. Davy only watched from his seat by the windowsill until his gaze instinctively turned back to the water.