Isolation

How is he?

River stood on the porch as people began to come to his house. First, it was a police car, then an ambulance. A second police car came later. He mostly just watched as the groups got to work. He suddenly froze when an officer approached him and asked him to answer "a few questions." They weren't hard, but River couldn't help but get nervous.

After about ten minutes of questioning, the brightly-colored Monkeemobile pulled up onto the grass. Peter and Micky wasted no time getting out and running to the house.

"Where is he?"

"He's inside," River said softly.

"Doctors are examining him now." The officer explained, scribbling down something in his notepad. "Thank you for your patience, Mr. Anderson."

River nodded and walked down the steps to approach the two.

"He's been staying with me for the last week and a half," he looked down, unsure of what he was even saying at the moment. "He passed out in the street, and I just panicked and wanted to help."

Micky smiled a little and patted him on the shoulder.

"Thank you."

River nodded slightly and looked up only when one of the doctors exited the house and approached them.

"Has Mr. Nesmirth-"

"Nesmith!" Micky and Peter automatically corrected.

"Right, Mr. Nesmith. Has he taken anything? Any type of drug or medication?"

River shook his head.

"I offered some aspirin, but he always refused."

The doctor sighed, not receiving the answer he was looking for.

"How is he?" Peter asked hopefully.

"He's perfectly fine, but also completely unresponsive. That suggests to me that he's taken something. If he has, I need to know about it. Mr. Anderson, you won't be in trouble if you've given him anything. But I need to know the truth."

"I am telling you the truth! I offered, but he declined. No matter how much pain he was in, he refused to take stuff that would help."

Micky nodded. That did sound like Mike.

The doctor sighed again, becoming annoyed.

"Now, look-"

"He's a narcoleptic!" Micky blurted out quickly, and all faces turned toward him. Peter felt a question on the tip of his tongue but resisted the urge to ask it. River's eyes widened at the statement, and he looked between the doctor and Micky for a moment, unsure of who to focus on.

"That's that sleep disorder, right?" He instantly regretted the outburst.

"Yes. Narcolepsy is 'that sleep disorder.' But how do you know? Do you have any proof?" The doctor asked after some thought.

"Well, I don't exactly have his medical records on me right now," Micky was becoming a little nervous, now having to keep up with the story. "But the proof is right in front of you."

"Narcoleptics are unaware of their surroundings when they're out," River interrupted, adding to the story. "Completely catatonic and unresponsive for however long until the mind can process everything properly again."

Micky nodded as a silent "thank you" to River and Peter smiled, making his own contribution.

"For Mike, it usually takes him a few hours to get back. But he's okay, though."

"Does he experience cataplexy in his muscles when he's awake?"

"Um..." Micky didn't know how to respond. Partly because he didn't even know what the question was asking. But just like last time, River was quick to jump in.

"From what I've seen, no. He seems physically fine until moments before an attack. He usually gets headaches. Those seem to impair him quite a bit. But I don't know if they're the cause or the reaction, though."

The doctor nodded. "Most likely, the headaches are the trigger, the cause, that sends him into the attacks."

Right then, Mike was pulled out of the house on a stretcher.

"Mike!" Peter gasped and tried to run over, only to be stopped by Micky's hand holding him back.

As they loaded Mike into the ambulance, the doctor turned to Micky and Peter, directing the next part at them. "If it's alright with you both, we would like to keep him under examination just for tonight. You should be able to pick him up in the morning, but we will call you if that changes."

Micky nodded but couldn't say anything. He and Peter watched helplessly as the doctor hopped into the ambulance and it quickly drove away. The ambulance was followed closely by the two police cars. Pretty soon, the three were alone.

"Bye, Mike," Peter whispered sadly and Micky wrapped an arm around him.

"He'll be okay," he gave Peter a little squeeze and he smiled. "And then we'll get to take him home in the morning."

River frowned as he watched them, a realization coming over him. Quietly, he slipped away from the others and sat on the porch, looking down at his hands. This didn't go unnoticed by Micky. He smiled at Peter.

"I'll be right back."

"Hey, that was impressive." Micky grinned as he walked over and sat down beside River. "How'd you know all that stuff?"

"Oh, um," he didn't look up and instead kicked a rock. "That's a long story."

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Me?" He sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"Oh, okay." He nodded, choosing not to press further. "Well, if you want to talk about anything, I'm a good listener."

"Thanks." River said, barely above a whisper. It was followed by a silence which was broken after a minute when he spoke up again.

"Is it true?"

"What?"

"That Mike is narcoleptic."

"Oh, that." He closed his eyes, knowing his lie had been seen through. "He isn't. Or, at least, I don't think he is."

River shrugged. "It would actually make a lot of sense, you know. For him to have it, I mean. Narcolepsy is triggered mostly by stress or any other strong emotion. His not being able to remember causes stress which causes him to shut down."

"You think he has it?" Micky frowned, fearing what River was suggesting.

"Honestly? Yeah, I do. That's why I'm telling you this." He looked back up at Micky, only to stare back down at the ground when he saw the fear in the man's eyes. "Look, if you get the chance, I think you should get him looked at. Who knows? It might help."