Isolation

Secrets

Even though Mike seemed more comfortable with his presence there, Peter still didn't feel like he was doing anything to help. He didn't know what to say or do or feel, so he just sat there and stayed with Mike for hours. He listened to him when he rambled, even if he didn't understand a word. He comforted him when he panicked and cried, despite not knowing what had set him off. And when Mike knocked himself out later, Peter was the one who carried him to his bed without a second of hesitation.

Peter hated to admit it, but he was starting to get used to this.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should, but brushed Mike's hair out of his face with a hand, cringing at the injury.

"Oh, Mike, this looks really bad..." He said sadly. "Hang on, I'll be right back."

Peter knew Mike couldn't hear him but still felt the need to comfort him with reassuring words. As if he could. Peter headed downstairs to the bathroom and pulled a washcloth from the cabinet. He wet it with cold water and quickly ran upstairs.

"Mike, I'm back."

There was a part of him that expected he'd be awake, but Mike was still.

"Okay," Peter said to no one, approaching the bed again. "Sorry, I don't know much first aid. We'll have to have Micky look at it later. But I can at least clean up your face a little."

Carefully, he wiped the wet washcloth down Mike's face, cleaning up the stained blood.

"I wish you could tell us what's wrong..." he sighed and stood up from the bed. "I wish you would wake up and be better, and we wouldn't have to worry anymore."

He didn't get a response and sighed deeply.

"I'll be right back," he whispered and left the room again. Peter hurried downstairs and grabbed a chair, struggling as he carried it up the spiral staircase. He brought it into the bedroom and placed it beside Mike. This time he would make sure that he was there when Mike woke up.

Minutes slowly turned to hours. Davy came home and poked his head into the bedroom. He didn't say anything but sat on the ground beside Peter. A few hours later, Micky joined them, and they waited.

By the time Mike finally did wake up, Peter was the only one left. Davy went to bed a few hours earlier. Micky had stayed with Peter, insisting he would stay awake, only to fall asleep leaning against the nightstand.

Peter was beginning to doze off himself when Mike groaned and shifted around.

"Hey," he whispered, getting onto his knees right beside him. Mike's eyes fluttered open, and it took a minute to adjust before he saw Peter's smiling face.

"Peter..."

"Hi, Mike," he let out a deep breath he had been holding. Peter had started to lose hope. Mike was out for almost 12 hours.

"Hi..." he whispered weakly, trying to sit up but having the strength to do so.

"Are you okay?"

Mike nodded slightly.

"'M fine," he said through a yawn. "Just a headache."

"Tired?" Peter asked with a frown. He nodded again and smiled a little at something behind Peter.

"What?"

"Look behind you."

Peter turned and smiled too when he saw Micky sound asleep.

"Aw, he had to work later than usual yesterday. I don't blame him. He did try to stay awake for you, though."

"Stay awake for me?" Mike frowned and looked at Peter, waiting for an explanation.

"Mike...um..." he wasn't sure how to say it, or even if he should. "It's 2:45 in the morning. You've been out since about 3 pm."

"Oh," Mike said quietly, looking down. "Sorry 'bout that."

"You got stressed, and I don't really know what happened, but you just shut down. You've been doing it a lot actually, and-" he stopped suddenly. "Wait, Mike, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can." He didn't look up.

"Mike, um...do you know what narcolepsy is?"

After a moment, Mike nodded his head slightly, still not facing Peter.

"Yeah, Peter. I know what it is."

Peter frowned and sat on the bed beside Mike.

"Why didn't you tell us?" He asked softly, putting his arm around him.

"Tell you what?"

Peter sighed and closed his eyes, not wanting to get frustrated. Talking with Mike these days wasn't the easiest thing to do.

"Why didn't you tell us that you have narcolepsy."

Mike stiffened a little, and Peter rubbed his hand on his back, releasing some of the tension.

"I don't know. Didn't want you worryin' about me or treatin' me differently or something like that."

"We wouldn't have treated you differently, Mike," he said with a gentle smile. "How long have you been narcoleptic?"

"Since I was 'bout 17 or 18. Why?"

"I wish you would've told us you had narcolepsy, Mike," he sighed. He wasn't frustrated, only a little annoyed that Mike didn't tell them something that important. "I've been worried. We all have been."

Mike nodded slightly.

"Sorry," he whispered and closed his eyes. "Thought I was gettin' better, too."

"It's okay," Peter smiled. "It's not your fault."

He pulled Mike into a hug.

"I'm not mad at you, Mike. I'm just glad you're okay."

Mike nodded and pulled away after a moment, bringing his hand to his head.

"Headache?"

He nodded and squinted at the clock.

"What time is it?"

"2:49 am."

"Go to bed, Peter," Mike said sternly, getting comfortable in his own bed. "You look like you haven't slept in forever."

"I stayed up all night. I can stay up a little longer with you if you'd like me to."

"Go to bed," Mike repeated softer this time. "Don't stay up just for me. You deserve the rest."

He closed his eyes, beginning to drift off.

"So do you," Peter whispered and laid down on the ground. He wasn't leaving Mike any time soon.