Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5851261.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Monkees
  Relationship:
      Micky_Dolenz/Davy_Jones, Mike_Nesmith/Peter_Tork, Micky_Dolenz/OFC
  Character:
      Davy_Jones_(The_Monkees), Micky_Dolenz, Mike_Nesmith, Peter_Tork, OFC
  Additional Tags:
      Male_Slash, Drama, Angst, Drug_Use, Romance, Humor, Anal_Sex, Explicit
      Language, Non-Graphic_Violence
  Series:
      Part 8 of The_Adventures_and_Perils_of_Davy_Jones
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-02-03 Chapters: 23/23 Words: 82849
****** In Dependence ******
by htfrjolenz
Summary
     (The Monkees are as they were in 1966 in this saga but this is an
     altered reality story, it takes place in modern times and certain
     facts have been changed to create the plot and environment.)
     Summary: Series follower to “Stressed Spelled Backwards Is Desserts”
     The road to recovery from his injuries in the county jail is riddled
     with potholes; young Davy manages to fall into a big one …
Notes
     Warning: Very VERY hardcore sexual descriptions, foul language,
     violence
     Disclaimer: I own nothing Monkees related and all of this is a work
     of fiction - it never happened except in my cracked brain. I make no
     aspersions upon anyone's sexual preferences
     This work is EXTREMELY personal to me, and I am hoping to convey
     truths and personal experience as they took place in the lives of
     some precious people very dear to my heart. Most of what occurs here
     is based on real events, unfortunately.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Very VERY hardcore sexual descriptions, foul language,
     violence
     Disclaimer: I own nothing Monkees related and all of this is a work
     of fiction - it never happened except in my cracked brain. I make no
     aspersions upon anyone's sexual preferences
     This piece is very personal to me as the events depicted within are
     taken from real events as they happened to some very special people
     in my life. I had to tell their story - to let it out so that even if
     ONE person is helped by knowing how this awful monster destroys lives
     - most particularly the children of those addicted - then I have done
     something.
   "Morning kiddo, you ready to go?"
   "G'mornin' Tony. You bettah b'lieve I am, this doctor visit is my ticket orf
of the couch!"
   "Well that's entirely up to Dr. Bowen, so don't be too quick to jump the
gun," he warned.
   "We shouldn't be more than an hour guys," he called over his shoulder.
                                                                            
*                 
  "Well David," Dr Bowen greeted him, "you're looking much better than the last
time we saw each other. How are you coming along?"
   "Pretty good doc, moving right proper n hardly any pain."
   "Let's have a look."
   Examining his head and running him through a series of range of motion
tests, the doctor was fairly pleased with Davy's progress.
   "I'd like to get a couple of x-rays before I make a final decision. My nurse
Miss Nancy will take you across the hall and get a few pictures, okay?"
   "Yessir."
   Fifteen minutes later back in the exam room the doctor returned, all smiles.
   "Everything looks great. Ribs are all knitted back together and your arm is
fully healed as well."
   "Yesss!"
   "I'm not however, very happy with the range-of-motion you have in your left
shoulder. Let's take a look at your optical reflexes."
   Using a penlight, he examined both of Davy's eyes, checking pupil reaction,
muscle range and pupil size.
   "Alright David, I want you to follow this light moving only your eyes."
   Performing the test first with both eyes open, then separately with either
eye covered, Davy ran through the optic sensory test with ease.
   "Neurologically everything appears perfect. I'm giving you a clean bill of
health - with one exception; I'd like you to do a few weeks of physical therapy
to rebuild some of the muscle mass you've lost, try to get a better rotation in
your left shoulder.  We'll take care of all the arrangements, there's an office
right up the street that does pretty good work. I'll have Nancy call you with
the appointment information."
   "Any activity restrictions?"
   "No, he's free to do whatever he's comfortable with, provided young man that
you use some common sense. Don't be swinging from the chandeliers by that left
arm just yet."
   "No sir, I won't,” he grinned, “Thanks doc."
   "You should be able to rely on Tylenol for any residual pain you experience.
If you have any major complications, feel free to schedule an appointment with
me. Good luck David."
   "Thank you Dr. Bowen, I appreciate all you've done for Davy."
   "Yes, thank you."
   "My pleasure."
                                                                              
       *
   "I cahn't wait to get out on the beach, I'm so white I'm stahrting to look
like a polar bear."
   "Just remember not to overdo it with that arm."
   "Oh believe me, I'll be careful - m'not going through this again fer
anything!"
   "I Bet the guys will be happy to have you back on duty at home, cooking and
such."
   "Hey, could we stop at the mahrket n pick up some things? I wanna barbecue
tonight since it's me first night back on my feet so to speak."
   "That sounds like a great idea kiddo; I'll call the boys and let them know
not to plan dinner tonight."
                                                                                     
*
  The five men spent the afternoon on the beach soaking up the sun, making the
best of Davy's first day back in the swing of things. They tossed a frisbee
back and forth, spent some time in the ocean and played a few games of
badminton, competitively jeering each other as always. When the sun reached its
climax and the temperature peaked, they trekked across the sand toward home to
prepare dinner. Tony threw together a quick pasta salad, while Mike heated up
the coals in the grill.
Davy mixed up his special seasoning, blending it into the meat, making five
enormous hamburger patties.
   "Does anybody not want cheese on their burger?"
   "It ain't a proper burger now without globs of cheese Tiny."
   "Right then, 'ow bout the hot dogs, burnt or just warm?"
   "Char them puppies!"
   "Amen!"
   "You got it, burnt weenies coming up. I've got watermelon chilling in the
fridge for ahftah dinner too."
   "What about toppings for the burgers and dogs?"
   "Way ahead of you Mike - I've got lettuce, onion, tomato and pickles sliced
n ready to go, plus diced onions and homemade relish."
   "Wow Davy, you really thought this out!"
   "Thank you Petah, I tried."
   "Chips?" Micky questioned.
   "Yes Micky, I wouldn't leave out yer favorite thing n spoil the whole
cookout. Oh - I almost forgot to grill the corn!"
   "Corn on the cob?"
   "Well ya cahn't grillloose kernels Mike."
   "How'd you know to make all these here fixins Tiny?"
   "We do 'ave cookouts in England too ya know. Besides, I've lived stateside
long enough to know what you Yanks like to eat on a picnic."
                                                                             *
   Tony and Mike set the patio table while Davy manned the barbecue, the
inviting smell driving their taste buds wild. The heavenly scent soon drifted
inside, leading Micky by the nose to the back deck to drool hungrily beside the
grill.
   "Couple more minutes," Davy said, tweaking a burger, "would someone please
bring the toppings and condiments to the table?"
   "I'll get them Davy."
   "Thanks Pete."
   "I'll grab the chips," Micky offered.
   "I'll get my pasta salad."
   "I got the cokes," Mike called.
   "Thanks fellas, I appreciate all the help."
   The table laden, the four men gathered under the umbrella, forks in hand as
if starvation had set in days ago. Eagerly waiting, they strained to peek over
the raised lid of the grill, anxious for the main event to come off the coals.
   "Chow time!" Davy announced.
   He came to the table, tray balancing precariously on one hand, everything
steamy and perfectly cooked.
   "Wow that looks good," Tony said, "smells evenbetter."
   "I 'ope you guys like it; me own secret recipe fer the burgers. Dig in
fellas."
   "Pass me the corn will ya Pete?"
   "Sure Micky, can I have the pasta salad please?"
   "I need a hot dog bun."
   "Mike are you finished with the relish?"
   "Sure Tony. Tiny you want summa these tomaters?"
   "Oh ya, aren't they beauties?"
   "Who's got the pickles?"
   "Here Mick."
   "SWEET MOTHER OF MERCY!"
   Everyone turned their attention to Mike: The resident Texan, steak
aficionado and King of the Smoke House had just bitten into his cheeseburger.
   "Something wrong Mike?" Davy asked, an innocent quirk to his right eyebrow.
   "What in the name of Sam Houston did you do to these burgers?"
   Unsure of where this was going, the others eyed their meat patties
suspiciously, waiting for the Beef Master to render a verdict.
   "If I tell you, I'd 'ave to cut off yer tongue n break all yer fingers, so
you could never tell another soul." He grinned, "Doncha like it?"
   "Like it? Where I come from, they raise cattle especially for cookin'. They
cook beef for a living - it's bred into us down in Texas - don't NOBODY know
how to make a burger like a Texan makes a burger. But this here is the BEST
durn cheeseburger I've ever had the pleasure of lettin' drip down my chin!"
   Cracking a satisfied smile, Davy nodded his head briefly. "Well I could've
told ya THAT."
   Breathing a collective sigh of relief, the other men eagerly tasted what
Mike had declared to be the end-all be-all of cheeseburger rapture.
   "Omaga Daby thithus inquellabowl!"
   "Wow Micky, swallow -then speak - I cahn't understand a word you said."
   "I did," Tony said, "and I agree."
   "I said wow Davy this is incredible!"
   His mouth stuffed full, Peter nodded his agreement.
   "What exactly DID you put in these things?"
   "Not gonna tell ya."
   "That's just wrong on so many levels."
   "Pasta salad is excellent Tony. "
   "Thanks kiddo. Now about the burgers …"
   "Nothing to it really, just a few seasonings, a little cooked crumbled bacon
and my secret ingredient."
   "Which is?"
   "A secret."
   "I'll find out later," Micky declared, a sneaky grin on his face, "I happen
to know how to make him talk."
   "Talk li'e that'll getcha cut orf ya know."
   "You couldn't go through with a threat like that, you wouldn't last a day
without some Micky love."
   "I got along fairly well just me n Rosy Palmer fore I got with you ya know."
   "Ya well you've had the Italian Stallion, there's no going back now little
one."
   "Blahst I hate it when 'es right."
   "Really Micky, I'm trying to digest over here."
   "Admit it man, it's jealousy. Everyone wants a piece of the kid."
   "I've already.. never mind. New subject please. "
   "Already WHAT?" Mike jumped in, curiosity piqued.
   "Nothing!" Micky and Tony said in unison.
   Mouth agape, Davy stopped eating, his fork mid-air. Eyes widening, his head
snapped sharply in Micky's direction.
   "THAT was yer one-night stand?!"
   Blushing a deep crimson, Micky dropped his head. Raising a single eyebrow,
he stole a furtive glance at Tony, who had taken a sudden intense interest in
his own lap.
   "Do WHAT?" Mike said with a sly grin.
   "It shouldn't come as such a surprise to everyone," Peter spoke up, "I knew
that and nobody told me anything."
   "How did you know?" Micky asked, back among the living again.
   "Well you said once before that you'd had a thing one night with an old
friend. There's nobody in the world you're a closer friend with and the two of
you go way way back. Simple math."
   "Something interesting in yer lap there Tony?" Davy teased.
   "Do you want to be grounded until you're forty-five Davy?"
   "No sir, just gonna sit 'ere n finish my dinnah," he grinned.
   "At any rate," Tony managed, "the doctors office called, you start physical
therapy tomorrow morning at ten. With paperwork and all, we need to be there
fifteen minutes early so be ready by nine thirty."
   "Sure, it's a date," he snickered.
   "You have no clue how much influence I, as your legal guardian, can have
over the amount of pain the therapist will inflict upon you, obviously."
   "Erm, did I say date? Appointment, scheduled visit.. yaa. S'what I meant.
Really."
   "Mmmhmm."
   "Love you Tony, lots of respect."
   "I'm quite sure."
   "Some watermelon?"
   "Why yes my little suck-up," he smiled, "I'd love some."
   "Coming right up.
   A while later, five young men lounged around a bonfire on the beach,
spitting watermelon seeds into paper cups and holding their bulging stomachs.
Relaxing to the sounds of the dying day, they lay listening to natures
symphony: The waves crashing against the breakers, a few straggling gulls in
search of a late-night meal, the distant horn of a passing freighter on the
pacific and somewhere in the night a coyote howling at the perfect full moon.
   "I'm sorry fellas, I think I'm gonna call it a night."
   "You tired already little one? It's still early."
   "Not tired s'much, m’not feelin' very well."
   "You overdo it today kiddo?"
   "I don't think it's that really, maybe too much sun ahftah weeks of being
cooped up inside. Nothing a night's sleep won't cure, I'm sure. I'll just clean
up right quick and go up to bed."
   "Micky and I can do that Davy, you cooked and Mike and Tony set the table,
it's only fair."
   "Yaa, you go on upstairs babe, we'll take care of the food and stuff."
   "Okay, thanks you guys. G'night everybody."
   "Night Tiny."
   "Good night kiddo."
   "I'll be up in a few Dave. Come on Pete, let's get this cleaned up."
   "Goodnight Davy, I sure hope you get feeling better."
                                                                                     
*
   Micky woke to find himself alone in bed. Normally a sound sleeper, it was
quite rare for Davy to be up during the night. He glanced at the clock on the
nightstand: Three thirty-seven a.m. Sitting up he pawed the covers off, looking
around in the dark. A telltale gleam of light coming from beneath the bathroom
door indicated the location of his absent paramour. In a cat-like stretch, he
crawled across the bed, padding barefoot to the other side of the room. A soft
moan met his ears, and concerned, he tapped on the door.
   "Davy, can I come in?"
   "Mmmhmm."
   Easing the door open Micky slipped inside. Clad only in his pajama pants,
Davy sat on the floor hunched over the toilet, resting his head on one arm. The
acrid stench in the air spoke for itself well enough: He'd clearly been
throwing up.
   "You okay little one?"
   "Getting there."
   Running warm water in the sink, Micky wet a washcloth, and wringing it out
well he handed it to Davy.
   "Thanks," he said, flushing the commode, "man I hate that."
   "You getting sick or something?" Micky asked, placing a hand to Davy's
clammy forehead.
   "Dunno, feel crappy but not like I've got a bug or anything."
   "No fever, but your color sucks. You're shaking pretty hard too, are you
cold?"
   "No, just feel puny."
   "Maybe you ate too much. You did have like half of that watermelon."
   "Maybe," he shrugged, struggling to his feet, "was worth it if that's the
case."
   "You need any help?"
   "Naa, gonna wash me face n rinse me mouth out and come back to bed. You go
on ahead, I'll be right there."
   "Okay cookie, holler if you need me."
   "Alright."
   Davy splashed cold water onto his sweat-slicked cheeks, cooling his flushed
skin. Pouring a generous amount of mouthwash, he rinsed and spit several times,
killing off the nasty taste. Feeling fresher, he made his way back to bed,
settling into the waiting curve of Micky's body.
   "Feel any better?"
   "Mmm I do now."
   "Well then, come a little closer babe."
   "If I get any closer I'll be behind you."
   "That could be interesting.”
   "Yer such a letch."
   "Never bothered you before."
   "It still doesn't, just making a point."
   "We could start your physical therapy tonight…”
   "Ooh baby."
                                                                               
      *
   Tuesday morning found Mike and Peter sipping coffee bright and early, when
Micky came lumbering down the stairs.
   "Well look who's outta bed before noon today."
   "Morning Micky."
   "Uh huh, morning.”
   "Coffee?"
   "GOD yes."
   "Rough night shotgun? Makin up for lost time?"
   "Not exactly, Davy was sick during the night - close to four o’clock. “
   "Is he okay?"
   "Yaa, I think he ate too much watermelon last night."
   "Explains why he's still asleep, but why aren't you?"
   "I couldn't handle it anymore; he's up there tossing around in the bed like
the mattress is on fire."
   "Mebbe he is sick, you check his temperature?"
   "Cool as a cucumber. Who made the coffee? It's REALLY good."
   "Guilty.”
   "Nice job Pete."
   "Thank you Micky."
   "Well we'll just keep an eye on him, mebbe he ate too much n mebbe he got
too rambunctious yesterday after being in the house for so long. Maybe he's
getting sick and just didn't have a fever yet."
   "Maybe so, he did turn me down this morning."
   "What's that got to do with anything?"
   "Davynever says no."
   "Oh my good grief."
   "Shouldn't he be getting up soon? He has an appointment at ten."
   "Lemme drink my coffee and I'll go wake him up."
   "No time for kissy-poo either shotgun."
   "What're you my mother?"
   "I just know how long-winded you two can be."
   "I do have incredible stamina."
   "Well lookie what the cat dragged down the steps."
   "Morning Davy."
   "Not if I can 'elp it."
   "What’sa matter cookie?"
   "Nothing."
   "What's wrong Tiny; you lose your stilts or sumthin? Cuz yer lookin mighty
low."
   "Bugger orf Mike, I've 'ad enough of the peewee routine."
   "Well damn, who pissed in your corn flakes?"
   "No coffee?"
   "I'm sorry Dave, I took the last cup. I'll make another pot babe, be ready
in a jiff."
   "Don't bloody bothah - selfish bullshit!"
   Barefoot and wearing just his jeans, Davy huffed out the front door slamming
it behind him.
   "Wow, what's eating him?"
   "Mebbe ya should’a tried harder last night shotgun."

   "Morning kiddo, like some coffee?"
   "At least somebody's on the ball, thanks."
   "Trouble in paradise?"
   "Just one of those days."
   "Not to make matters worse, but you're a little under-dressed for therapy,
aren't you?"
   "Crikey! I plum forgot - when do we hafta leave?"
   "You've got about twenty minutes."
   "Grand. I'll be right back."
   Coffee cup in hand, Davy trotted back home, coming through the door like a
man on a mission. Without so much as a nod to his roommates, he was up the
staircase and behind his closed door in a flash.
   "Did he just bustle through here with a cuppa coffee?"
   "Cuppa sumthin."
   "But he yelled at me when I offered to make some more!"
   "Ya know how wives can be Micky," Mike teased, "maybe he got his monthly. He
did turn ya down this mornin'."
   "Very funny.”
   "Everybody has an off day," Peter defended.
   "Best way to handle a testy one - turn him over your knee."
   "Fat lot of good that'd do, he'd probably like it."
   "Well you'd still put him in a better mood."
   "Sorry mates," Davy said cheerily, skipping into the kitchen, "m'runnin a
bit late fer my appointment, cahn't chat just now. Be back in a few."
   Bending over Micky's shoulder with one leg in the air he planted a juicy
kiss on his lips, surprising and delighting him in one fell swoop.
   "Love you, see you in a bit!"
   "I love you too …"
   And he was out the door.
   " .. Whoare you?" Micky called after him, confusion twisting his handsome
features.
   Just as perplexed, Peter merely shrugged. Mike made a spanking gesture with
his right hand, bringing an exaggerated eye-roll from Micky.
                                                                                     
*
   Amy Fowler called them back into the physical therapy clinic promptly at ten
a.m., eager to begin with her new client.
   "Hello David - I'm Amy Fowler, I'll be the physical therapist working with
you to get you back up to par. May I call you David?"
   "I actually prefer Davy if you don't mind."
   "Davy then. Primarily what we will be doing today is evaluating your
strengths and weaknesses to determine what type of exercises will benefit you
the most. I'll check your reflexes and have you do a few things to measure
muscle tone and strength, range-of-motion and stamina. It's not uncommon for
you to experience a little discomfort, but pain is another matter, if it
elevates your pain level you need to let me know, okay?"
   "Yes."
   They ran through a series of simple tests and hand-to-hand evaluations, with
Amy making notations in his file.
   "Alright, you're doing great. One more thing I want you to do and we'll be
all through for today."
   She led him deeper into the building to a set of workout machines, stopping
in front of one in particular. Making some adjustments to the tension bands,
she asked him to take a seat.
   "This is a rowing machine. I've set the resistance to a fairly low level; I
just want to see how long you can do this without feeling any pain. Do not
force yourself - no heroes allowed in here. If it begins to hurt, you stop."
   "Gotcha," he grinned.
   "Come back up front when you're finished."
   "Yes Miss Fowler."
   "Please Davy, call me Amy."
   Back up front Amy called Tony into her office.
   "Mr. Martinelli is it?"
   "Yes, Tony, Please."
   "Tony, Davy does need some work, but not a lot. He obviously was fairly
athletic prior to his injuries and that did a lot to create a stable healing
environment. He's lost a little muscle mass in his left arm and shoulder, but
I'm certain he'll build it back up fairly quickly."
   "Athletic is right, he's always on the move - swimming, tennis, volleyball -
and he's a gifted dancer."
   "Is transportation a problem at all?"
   "None whatsoever, we have three vehicles and live about fifteen minutes
away."
   "Wonderful. I'm going to work up a schedule for him before you leave."
   "Miss Amy, I'm finished."
   "Wow, you're quite the little dynamo! No pain?"
   "No ma'am, just gotta bit winded."
   "Okay. I was just telling your guardian that I think you'll do very well.
I'd like to have you come in three days a week for two weeks, beginning Friday.
I'm going to print out some directions for a few simple exercises that I want
you to do at home on your off days, and you can take a break on Sundays."
   "Alright, sounds great."
   "Let me print these things out for you and we'll get you on your way."
***** Chapter 2 *****
   Back at home, the boys were in an excited dither. With Davy back in action
they scanned the trade papers in search of a gig; and got an immediate hit.
   "We have an audition a month from Saturday at Club Durango!"
   "Really? Tha'sterrific!"
   "We're not the only group they're gonna see," Mike added, "So we need to
choose a set list and start rehearsing right away."
   "Could we do that a little laytah Mike? I'm kinda tired, Therapy wore me out
n I was hoping to take a short nap."
   "Well, I reckon I don't need you to work up a set list Davy, so go on
ahead."
   "Want me to tuck you in little one?"
   "Micky, I could really use your help with this."
   "Thirty minutes Mike?” Davy pleaded, “I promise I'll kick 'im out as soon as
we're through."
   "I suppose you two have waited long enough, but so help me Micky you better
not fall asleep after."
   "I won't fall asleep."
   "Davy are you sure about that nap?" Tony asked, "I was going to spring for
lunch?"
   "Ooh lunch sounds great, but it's only eleven o'clock, maybe eat around one
thirty?"
   "If that's okay with everyone else."
   "Alright by me, Mike and I had a late breakfast."
   "I'm good too," Micky added, making his way toward the stairs.
   "Alright, any preferences?"
   "How 'bout that Coney island place that just opened up?"
   "We had hot dogs last night Cotton."
   "Mexican?"
   "Ooh Micky, not sure I can deal with that ahftah last night."
   "I could get pizza, or some fried chicken?"
   "Pizza sounds good."
   "I can do that."
   "Extra cheese?"
   "If you want, yes."
   "Can we get mushrooms on half?"
   "Done.
   "Excellent, thanks Tony. Come here little one, there's something else I'm
hungry for first!"
   "Well I've got something you can fill up on babe."
   "PLEASE, take it in the bedroom!"
   "Sorry Tone."
                                                                                     
*
   Behind closed doors, they wasted no time shedding their clothes and crawling
into bed, eager to touch and kiss, probe and pleasure. Walking him backwards,
Micky inched Davy toward their bed, a devilish leer gleaming playfully in his
eyes. Hands stroking the tanned skin of his chest, a gentle push was all it
took to land the smaller man on his back as his legs met the edge of the
mattress.
   "Perfect position," Micky grinned, using his best 'Big Bad Wolf' tone, "The
better to eat you with my dear."
   Dropping to his knees he faced the throbbing, pink erection poised engarde
before him. Holding the shaft reverently like a Muramatsu flute, Micky traced
his tongue around the tip, playing in the stickiness accumulated there. Wetting
his lips he slid his eager mouth down the length of Davy's cock, eliciting a
grateful moan from above. Shifting his weight forward he placed his palms on
the writhing hips beneath him. Eyes locked with his lovers Micky slid his
tongue seductively back to the quivering head.
   "Oh God that's good," Davy groaned.
   Stretching out the anticipation Micky planted teasing nips and kisses on the
soft inside of Davy’s left thigh, his fingers trailing up and down his taut
abdomen. Sparkly little tingles of excitement danced across his skin and he
arched his hips upward aching for that special private kiss. Seizing an
opportunity Micky slipped his hands beneath him, kneading the firm round behind
that he so admired. His hot breath whispered over his balls as he brushed past
to kiss and lick his way up the hardness that pleaded for his touch.
   "More Micky, please?"
   "I gotcha babe, don't you worry."
   Taking him fully into his mouth he sucked him with a slow steady rhythm, his
talented tongue stroking the sensitive tip with every stride. His fervor
mounting, Davy tangled his hands in the tumble of curls atop his lover's head,
guiding him in pace and depth to stoke the fire building in his groin.
   "Sofreaking good - please don't stop!"
   Micky took on a feverish tempo, flicks of his tongue sending jolts of
pleasure as he sucked short smooth strokes on his lovers throbbing head.
Probing a finger into his ass massaging his sweet-spot, he swallowed him to the
hilt, driving him into the physical realm of divine madness.
   Thrusting upward in an erotic craze, Davy crossed the threshold, spilling
his nectar in a hot stream down Micky's consenting throat. Tortuously, Micky
held him, sucking and licking a moment more, milking every drop of his strength
until he begged for mercy, pleading to be released. With the last of his will,
he scrambled back - away from the agonizing ecstasy - to collapse on the bed.
Sweaty and panting, he bore a faint smile, his body and soul completely at
peace.
   Reaching into the nightstand drawer, Micky retrieved the bottle of lube,
crawling toward him on the bed.
   "My turn little one," he said in a singsong lilt.
   "After that luv," Davy breathed, "you can 'ave anythin' you want."
   "On your knees babe."
   Gripping the bars of the metal headboard Davy situated himself on all fours,
his fanny pointing heavenward. As it has been some time since they were
together, Micky probed a lubed finger into his rectum - then another -
stretching the tightness that would soon envelop him. Satisfied with his
efforts he slicked himself, sliding his rigid cock playfully along Davy's ass-
crack.
   "You ready cookie? This might hurt a little more than usual."
   "It cahn't be that much worse, we've been doin' it for FUCK THAT HURTS!"
   Repressing a snicker, Micky held himself still, a phenomenal feat all things
considered.
   "You okay?"
   "Bloody hell, can I just suck you orf?"
   "What happened to anything I want?"
   "M'joking, just go slow okay?"
   Easing his slim hips back he pressed in again gently, edging deeper with
each thrust. In an easy rhythm he began rocking his hips, grinding tiny circles
into the tight pucker that held him so firmly, stoking his fire with every
squirm and squeeze.
   "Damn Dave you're so friggin' hot, shit you feel so good!"
   "Fuck me Micky, have your way!"
   The slight encouragement was all he needed. His passion raging - his need
alive - Micky abandoned caution, slamming against his lover with a rare fury.
Sweat trickled down his face as he watched his cock piston in and out of his
lover's ass in a lovely frenzied blur. Feeling every ridge and vein invade him,
Davy moaned with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
   "Ugh fuck - DAVY -"
   Crying out his name, Micky came hard, pulsing a hot stream deep into the
clutching chasm. With a final furious lunge, he tumbled over the edge, his body
trembling from too much pleasure. Breathless, he lay against Davy's back, their
hearts pounding in harmony. Fully sated they lay absorbing each other’s scent,
lulled by the sound of each others breathing as if by the patter of a gentle
rain. Finally, Micky moved to lie beside his diminutive lover, stroking his
chest with tenderness, concern clouding his lovely eyes.
   "Did I hurt you?"
   "No Micky, you didn't, I'm alright."
   "Promise?"
   "Babe, we agreed a long time ago to always be straight with each other about
this, I promised you then n m'not gonna break me word to ya now. You were
great, easing me in."
   "I love you Davy, I don't ever wanna cause you pain."
   "I love you too. Though I don't wanna hurt you either, I'm afraid I hafta
tell you something …"
   "What?" Micky asked, slight alarm in his expression.
   "Getcher clothes on n get out," he grinned, "I promised Mike I'd send ya
packing - no nap fer you sunshine."
   "Why you dirty rat!"
   "Oh Micky, you've gotta find a new impression babe."
                                                                                     
*
   At half past two, rested and well fed, Davy joined the boys on the bandstand
for the first time in nearly two months. Enjoying his pizza leisurely, Tony
relaxed on the sofa, eager as always to hear them play.
   "Nothing like a little free entertainment with lunch," he quipped, "alright
guys, dazzle me."
   They rolled through the first thirty minute set without any serious
glitches, everyone playing as if they hadn't missed a day - let alone weeks of
rehearsals. After a ten-minute break, they launched into set two - which didn’t
go quite as smoothly. A few bars into their third song, Mike called a cut.
   "Hold up a minute guys, that sounded like shit!"
   "I'm sorry Michael; I don't know what was throwing me off."
   "It wasn't tha’ bad Mike."
   "Tiny look at Tony's face; another ten seconds and his ears’d start to
bleed. That was horrible."
   "Always the diplomat," Davy shot back.
   "Micky what were YOU playin'?"
   "Sorry Mike, Peter was off and it threw me out of sync."
   "I'm really sorry Micky."
   "Davy?"
   "Wha'?"
   "Buddy your rhythm was all over the place - what happened?"
   "No way babe, I was tight."
   "I'll say," Micky grinned, drawing a scowl from Mike.
   "I'm sorry Tiny, it’s almost like you were playing two different tunes man."
   "Tha’s a load of bullsh-"
   "Why don't you all try this," Tony interjected, "run through twelve or so
bars individually and maybe you can pinpoint the issue."
   "That's a great idea. Davy we'll start with you."
   "It's a bit 'ard to tap out a back beat on the tambourine with nothing to
back up."
   "I can play a soft melody on the keyboard if it'll help you Davy," Peter
offered.
   "Okay Petah, same song - whenevah yer ready."
   Peter moved to the keyboard, immediately ringing out the opening notes to
Pleasant Valley Sunday, with Davy coming in in perfect time. The melody began
to tinkle softly, and gyrating his hips he eased into his usual beat,
tambourine in motion against his wrist and thigh.
   Everything was going smoothly - then something changed - and the whole sound
went south. Davy lost his focus for just a second, putting him half a beat off
tempo. In turn, Peter's sensitive ear picked it up, and skipped a few keys in a
subconscious attempt to compensate, hitting a sour note in the process.
   "Stop, stop," Mike called out, "I actually SAW what happened just now. Tiny
are you having a problem with that arm?"
   "No m'not, why?"
   "I caught that as well," Tony added, "almost like a microscopic spasm in his
right forearm.”
   "Good description, exactly what I saw."
   Glancing down Davy rotated his wrist, flexing his carpal radius muscle.
Looking back at Mike, he offered a simple shrug.
   "You're not having any pain or anything kiddo?"
   "No, nothing. Besides it was me left arm that was injured, not me right."
   "Didja mebbe.. overdo it upstairs?"
   "He didn't even use his hands, I gave him-"
   "No details," Tony blurted, "PLEASE!"
   "I know," Davy brightened, snapping his fingers, "the rowing machine!"
   "Huh?"
   "I'd completely forgot! At therapy today, she had him on a rowing machine
for a good twenty minutes or so. I bet that’s what has his muscles so
aggravated! Good thinking Davy."
   "Well that explains a lot," Mike said, "add forty minutes of workin' that
tambourine nI'd be havin' a dadburned spasm too."
   "Why not take a break and put some ice on that arm, or maybe a little
liniment?"
   "Might as well Tiny, we're not gonna get anywhere like this."
   "I'm sorry fellas."
   "It's not your fault Davy."
   "Thanks Petah."
   "He needs to work the muscle more so it gets past the freaking out stage,"
Micky grinned, "I volunteer to help."
   "That reminds me. Mike I have a favor to ask of you."
   "What's that?"
   "The physical therapist gave Davy some exercises to do at home on his off
days, all but Sundays. If I give you the print-out for them, would you mind
working with him three days a week?"
   "Why him?" Micky pouted, "Why not me?"
   "No offense amici but Mike here seems to be our resident sadist; I believe
he can drive Davy a little harder to do what he needs to do."
   Mike wore a prideful million-dollar smile, Peter a knowing grin.
   "Ya know 'es right, you'd be lettin' me off the hook fer sexual favors."
   "Ya well, I'd still find a way to work you out."
   "I'd be right pleased to torture Tiny - uh I mean work him out."
   "Thank you Mike," Tony grinned.
   "So since rehearsal is off, how bout I exercise me arms by takin' a swim?
Anybody care to come along n spot me?"
   "I'll go," Peter said enthusiastically.
   "Heck me too!"
   "Easy shotgun," Mike turned to Micky, "it's your turn to cook dinner."
   "We just ate lunch!"
   "Okay. Whatcha gonna make?"
   "I'll make spaghetti."
   "You always make spaghetti."
   "Nobody ever complains."
   "Okay, meat thawed out?"
   "Umm no."
   "We're out of pasta, when ya gonna go to the market?"
   "Take me ten minutes."
   "We're out of your homemade sauce too ya know."
   "Shit. Shit."
   "Salad? Bread?"
   Micky dropped his head, his chin practically scraping his chest.
   "I'll supply the wine," Tony offered sympathetically.
   "Lemme know how the water is Davy."
   "Ya want me to stick around babe, 'elp with the cooking?"
   "Naw, you go on ahead little one, no point in both of us being stuck in the
house."
   "Okay, I'll be back soon enough. Come on Petah."
   "Okay, I just wanna grab my radio."
                                                                                     *
   Out on the beach Peter and Davy sat on a blanket enjoying the unusually
temperate weather, drying out in the late afternoon sun. Refreshed from a dip
in the Pacific, they lounged about relaxing to some music, courtesy of Peter's
old portable radio.
   "Gee Davy I wish I tanned as easily as you do, all I do is burn and get
freckles."
   "I've always 'ad good color, even as a kid I seemed to keep a tan year
round. Maybe you should try some suntan oil?"
   "Maybe. I'm afraid I'll wind up looking like a deep-fried prune - all burnt
and wrinkly. I'd love to have the golden shine your skin has, you practically
glow."
   "My backside is so white it lights up the room when I drop me shorts," Davy
laughed, "it definitely slows."
   "Oh no."
   "S'not a bad thing, Micky ratherfancies the tan lines."
   "No, look," he pointed beyond them.
   Not fifteen feet away ambling towards them up the beach, came none other
than Ben Worthington.
   "Oh boy, now I get it."
   "Hey Peter, long time no see."
   "Rocket," he greeted him stiffly.
   Disregarding the cold welcome from his one-time friend, Rocket turned to
Davy.
   "I wanted to talk to you, wanted to see how you are."
   Eyeing him warily, Davy nodded briefly.
   "I'll survive, M'on the mend, coming along fine."
   "Look, I know I'm not real popular around here, I just wanted to look in on
you, and to tell you again how sorry I am for my involvement in what went down.
I really am. I'll see you guys some other time."
   Turning away, Ben walked back the way he'd come, head down - shoulders
slumped in defeat. Watching him for a moment, Davy called after him.
   "Hey Rocket."
   Pausing, he turned with hope to look back.
   "Thanks," Davy nodded.
   A tiny smile spread across Ben's face as he turned and walked on, a slight
bounce now in his step.
   "Petah I-"
   "Davy, Peter -” Mike called from the house, “c’mon up here.”
   "We'd better go," Peter said, scooping up his radio, "Mike gets impatient
very quickly."
   "Petah wait a second, I …”
   But the blond was already scrambling across the sand toward home.
   Shaking as much of the beach from the blanket as possible, Davy followed
suit, the smell of spaghetti leading him easily to his own back door.
                                                                                     
*
   Seated around the table everyone was salivating as the smell of Micky's
famous Italian pasta sauce filled the house with a heavenly aroma. His great-
grandmothers recipe, he'd been making it himself since he was five, a family
tradition he intended to keep alive. Store-bought garlic rolls and a fresh
salad rounded out the meal, and true to his word, Tony brought two chilled
bottles of Cabernet to wash it all down.
   "Oh my God," Davy exclaimed, "Micky I swear - it gets bettah every time you
make it!"
   "I gotta agree shotgun, you knocked the horns offa the steer tonight."
   "The salad is fabulous too Mick, interesting combination. I'd have never
thought to use radicchio and mandarin oranges together, but with the feta and
pine nuts the flavor simply pops!"
   "The herb butter on the rolls is really delicious. Everything is Micky."
   "Wow guys, thanks a lot."
   "Thank you," Peter said, "I wasn't sure I could eat after what happened out
on the beach, but it all smelled so yummy my stomach stopped hurting."
   Across the table, Davy suddenly started eating with a greater enthusiasm.
   "What happened on the beach Cotton?"
   "Rocket came over to Davy and me."
   "What?"
   "Today? What happened?"
   "Did he start sumthin with y'all?"
   "Its alright you guys," Davy spoke up, "nothing bad 'appened. It was very
unsettling fer Petah n well Ben just spoke 'is peace and went on 'is way."
   "What did he say to you?"
   "He ahsked me 'ow I was coming along n apologized for everythin' again."
   "He was kind of hurt that we gave him the cold-shoulder, but Davy smoothed
it all over," Peter smiled.
   "How," Micky asked, irritated, "and for pity's sake WHY?"
   "He just looked really dejected as he was leaving, so I called out to 'im n
told 'im thanks."
   "I love that you've got such a generous forgiving nature kiddo, but I'd
rather you steer clear of Ben Worthington. I don't like him and I don't trust
him."
   "S'not like I invited him to dinnah, I thanked him fer ahskin' after me. I
knew this was gonna go balls up!"
   "I'm not scolding you Davy, just putting in my two cents worth. This isn't
worth ruining a great meal over, and as you said, nothing happened."
   "Did I mention that there's dessert?" Micky said, attempting to ease the
tension.
   "No, what is it?"
   "I baked a cake."
   Mike gave him a wry smirk from across the table.
   "Okay I BOUGHT a cake," he conceded, "but it's the thought that counts."
***** Chapter 3 *****
   Wednesday morning came to find three of the four Monkees up early, enjoying
a leisurely breakfast and a stout pot of coffee. For the second day in a row,
Micky was out of bed early and Davy had slept late. Nine forty-five rolled
around and the tousle-headed Brit finally made an appearance on the stairs,
sleep disheveled and sporting a cantankerous frown.
   "Morning little one."
   "Hey Tiny."
   "Good morning Davy."
   An irritated grunt his only response, Davy went straight for the coffee pot,
emptying its contents into a mug. Staring down, he glared into the murky brew
at the scant half-full cup.
   "Fuckin' lovely, no coffee AGAIN."
   "Well aren't we just a big ball of sunshine," Mike said sarcastically.
   "Leave orf man!"
   "Why not try asking nicely if someone will just make more?"
   "I see you all ate breakfast without me too!" Davy shot back, ignoring
Mike's advice, "what - I'm a second class citizen now? Been nice if someone
would've woke me up!"
   "Babe mellow out. I don't get upset when you guys carry on without me when I
sleep in; it’s not a personal slight it’s just life going on around us."
   "At least when you sleep in I try to wake you or save you something to eat -
but no - you're all thoughtless selfish twits where I'm concerned, thanks fer
nothing!"
   "I'll make you some breakfast Davy," Peter chimed in, and some coffee too."
   "The hell you will!" Mike said, more than a little fired up, "he can cool
his attitude or make his own damn breakfast!"
   "Oh I see, but let you get yer knickers in a knot and everyone fer two miles
is kissing your ass!"
   Eyes blazing Mike was suddenly on his feet and towering over the littlest
Monkee. Fearlessly, Davy stood his ground, glaring up at his personal Goliath
defiantly.
   "People RESPECT me because I SHOW respect! YOU are just having an attitude
problem and a temper tantrum! Whatchoo need is to have that ass busted like a
schoolboy!"
   "When you find somebody BIG ENOUGH to try - lemme know!"
   "You guys please don't fight!" Peter pleaded.
   "Okay Davy," Micky attempted to intervene, "let's just go hang out somewhere
else, just you n me."
   "Wha' you think I cahn't 'andle this? Well you can 'old Mike's hand while 'e
bends ovah to KISS ME ARSE! Piss orf, the lot of you!"
   Crossing the house in a huff Davy stormed out the front door, slamming it as
he went.
   "One of these days I'm gonna get my hands on that mouthy lil brat n turn him
over my knee!"
   "I dunno what's going on with him lately,” Micky said, “he’s not been acting
like himself. I'm gonna take a walk."
   He left out the back door and crossing the sandy divide slipped into Tony's
kitchen. There seated at the table was Davy, devouring a stack of flapjacks.
   "Morning Micky, care for some breakfast?"
   "Morning Tone, no thanks."
   "Some coffee then?"
   "Thanks man, I'm coffee'd out."
   Rinsing his empty plate and refilling his coffee cup, Davy moved toward the
front door.
   "Thanks fer breakfast Tony, that hit the spot, coffee is excellent by the
way. I'm gonna run. It's a little crowded in 'ere."
   "See you later kiddo."
   Micky sighed.
   "Trouble in paradise?"
   "Not exactly, it's not just about the two of us."
   "What do you mean?"
   "He's been, I dunno - out of sorts - just not himself these past few days."
Micky went on to explain how things had gone the last few days and the blowout
that had taken place just that morning. Tony assured him that it would pass,
promising that he would speak to their tiny terror as soon as possible.
  A short time later, Tony saw Davy meandering slowly up the beach, coming to
rest on a large boulder he seemed to favor when he had a lot on his mind. Not
one to waste an opportunity, he headed out to speak to his temperamental young
ward.
Absorbed in his own thoughts Davy didn't hear Tony walking up from behind him.
This place, where the ocean washed onto the breakers with a powerful tumble,
soothed him - regardless of his troubles. Distracted by nature's beauty the
soft touch on his shoulder startled him, and he nearly slid from his perch.
   "Sorry kiddo, didn't mean to spook you."
   "Wow Tony, wear a bell will ya - I 'bout pissed meself!"
   "I'll give that some thought," he said with a grin, "okay if I join you?"
   "Alright with me, but I gather this isn't a social visit?"
   "Well not entirely, no. I'm always happy to spend time with you, you know
that - but I need to talk to you. I hear you've been a little irritable these
last few days. Anything I can help with?"
   "I dunno, I guess maybe I've been a bit of a jerk. M'not really sure why to
be honest."
   "Are you feeling unwell?"
   "No."
   “Are you angry with anyone at home kiddo?”
   “No sir, not really.”
   "Well it seems you're already aware that you've behaved inappropriately, now
you need to make amends. You really hurt the guy's feelings this morning;
perhaps an apology is in order?"
   "Yessir, I suppose you're right. I really didn't mean to be so terrible."
   "Don't tell me kiddo, tell them."
   Sighing deeply, Davy got to his feet.
   "No sense putting it off I suppose, best just swallow me medicine. Mike's
likely to knock my teeth out, but I suppose I've earned it."
   "Would you like me to come along for support?"
   "Fer safety is more like it," he laughed, "Thanks Tony, I think I'll take my
chances, they'll respect it more if I handle this on my own."
   "Well good luck Davy, holler if you need me - or any emergency medical
attention," he chuckled.
   "See ya Tony, thanks again."
  Resolutely Davy marched back to the bungalow he shared with his bandmates,
and drawing a deep breath, willed himself to walk in the bay doors. Micky sat
on the backless couch thumbing through a magazine, while Mike sipped a cup of
tea relaxing on the sofa. At his feet, Peter strummed his guitar, a folksy
piece that he had picked up in the village a few years back.
Nervous but determined, Davy stepped into the room, seating himself on the
floor several feet behind Peter. His head lowered, he waited quietly for the
bassist to finish his song.
   "That was beautiful babe," Mike lauded, stroking his cheek, "play another
one for me, please."
   Seizing the brief silence, Davy took a shot.
   "Mike, fellas," he began in a tremulous voice, "could I talk to you fer a
minit? Please?"
   Noting that he had spoken respectfully and called him by name, Mike was
pleased. His interest piqued he nodded silently.
   "I - I want to apologize for the way I behaved this morning, for the way I
treated all of you. I honestly don't know what came ovah me; I was awful and
hurtful! I'm so terribly sorry you guys, please - please know that. Mike," he
said to their fatherly leader, "I disrespected you: you don't deserve that.
Petah, Micky.. I was rude and cruel to you both. I'm sorry for being so
inconsiderate. I'm not expecting anything in return, m'not even gonna hang
round in 'ere. I'm gonna go up to my room and think about the things I've done.
I just wanted you all to know that I feel really lousy fer how I treated you.
If there is anythin' I can do to make it up to you fellas… "
   Regaining his feet he backed away, and turning, he headed for the staircase.
Before he made it three steps up, Mike was on his feet as well.
   "Davy!"
          (Bloody hell - here it comes)
   Without speaking he stopped, turning to face whatever retribution may come
from the six foot Texan. He swallowed nervously as the thump of Mike's boot-
heels on the floor drew nearer, step by step.
   Standing face to face he bravely gazed up at his self-appointed triune -
judge, jury and executioner - waiting for a verdict.
   "Way to go Tiny," Mike said, extending his right hand, "I'm very proud Davy.
It takes real character to admit when you’re wrong, you're a good man."
   Stunned and relieved, Davy shook hands with him, grateful to be able to grin
with all of his teeth.
   "Thanks Mike, that means a lot."
   "Well ya did good. Now, haul your little ass up them steps n finish whatcha
started."
   "Sure Mike."
   Mike watched as Davy ascended the stairs and closed himself in his bedroom.
Turning to the others, he shook his head in wonder.
   "Well I'll be doggone."

   After lunch, Mike collared Davy for his first home exercise routine - Texas
vs. Manchester.
   "Aww Mike I wanted to go to the beach with Micky this afternoon!"
   "Not a chance shotgun, ya ain't goin anywhere less ya do your exercises."
   "Oh PLEASE man, I promise I'll do them as soon as we get back 'ome."
   "Okay Tiny, you can go - just as soon as I turn you over my knee n whoop
that hind end."
           (Texas 1 Manchester 0)
   Twenty minutes later Tony came in to find Micky and Peter had vacated to the
beach, leaving Mike to drill Davy in his home therapy. The scene he walked into
was surprising to say the least, cackling with laughter Mike and Davy were
rolling in the floor near to tears.
   "Looks like I missed the punch line," Tony grinned, arms folded across his
chest.
   Pausing long enough to look from him to each other briefly, the two burst
into another sputtering fit of hysterics.
   "What's so funny, you guys swallow a feather?"
   "M-Mike aa-ha-ha-ha-" Davy tried to speak, "erm, 'es tryin' to EEEHE-HE-HE -
to fix it so I can do these exercises."
   Another burst of snickering accompanied by Mike smacking his palm on the
rug.
   "Okay," Tony cocked his head, "and that's so humorous in what way?"
   "Oh gosh," Davy said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Some of them require hand
weights of different sizes which we don't 'ave. So Mike 'ere decided to
improvise."
   "I still don't get the cackling."
   "Well we're using soup cans and milk jugs half full of water n such -"
   "- and Mike starts laughing and naming them things like - like He-he-he-hee"
   "Like what?"
   "The soup-can shuffle!" Mike snorted.
   "Wait; wait -"Davy howled, "the milk jug mambo!"
   This one brought a head-shaking knee-slapping belly laugh from his now
chuckling cohort: Tony on the other hand was convinced that they had both lost
their minds.
   "I think I'm going to just go home and leave you two to this, I'm afraid it
might be contagious."
   As he opened the door to leave, Davy hollered excitedly.
   "Tony wait -" he said, grabbing the broom, "the dust-mop dance!" He
declared, briskly sweeping the floor.
   Mike howled with laughter once more, clearly seeing the humor in this. Tony,
with one eyebrow raised, backed outside and closed the door.
                                                                                     
*
   By the time Davy had finished his therapy, iced for twenty minutes and
changed into his swim trunks, Micky and Peter were heading back home. It was
Peter's turn to cook and he needed to go to the market, and Micky had a
headache. Mike declined his invitation to join him so he wandered down to the
beach alone eager for a swim. Dinnertime came and Davy had yet to return. A
quick scan of the beach and a call to Tony turned up nothing.
   "Dinner is getting cold and the roast is drying out," Peter moaned,
"everything is gonna be ruined!"
   "Now Cotton, it's not that bad, we'll just sit down and eat without him."
   "But he's gonna get mad like he did this morning over breakfast."
   "I don't think he will shotgun, but if he does you let me handle it."
   "Mikes right Big Pete, Davy knows what time we have dinner, he should’a been
home on time," Micky added.
   "If you guys are sure …”
   "He can eat when he gets back; now let's get dinner on the table."
   Ten minutes after the dishes were put away, a breathless Davy came bursting
through the door.
   "I'm sorry Petah, I completely lost track of the time - I hope you didn't
wait on me."
   "As a matter of fact we already ate," Mike said snidely, "Peter worked very
hard to make a nice meal and he was upset that it was dryin' out n gettin cold.
We saved you a plate in the microwave, but you'll be washing your dishes when
you're finished."
   "I planned on it Mike, and I said I was sorry. I didn't do it on purpose, I
was 'aving a good time n got sidetracked is all."
   "You need to give Tony a call; he's out lookin for you."
   "Wha' for? I'm a little late, not missing!"
   "Take it up with him."
   "Bloody hell, cahn't be late fer dinnah without someone callin' out the
fuckin' FBI!"
   "Where you going?"
   "Upstairs to take a shower."
   "What about your supper?"
   "M'not hungry anymore."
   "Dammit Tiny come back here!"
   "Bite me!"
   Angered, Mike flew out of his seat racing after his pint-sized protagonist,
who darted into his bedroom and quickly locked the door. Standing on the
upstairs landing seething, Mike turned blazing eyes on Micky.
   "So HELP ME - I'm gonna turn him over my KNEE!"
                                                                               
      *
   Mike woke from a sound sleep feeling as if something was out of place in his
quiet little world. Curled up next to him, Peter was sweetly adrift in
dreamland, having a grand adventure at Disneyland if the smile on his face was
any indicator.
   The house was silent with no light seeping under the bedroom door, and no
one appeared to be stirring above as the creaky floors and bedsprings were
equally mute. Yet something drew him from a solid sleep at half past four,
something alerting his keen senses that all was indeed not well. He slipped out
of bed stuffing his pillow under Peter's left arm, filling the void left by his
absence: A security blanket of sorts, enough to keep his needy one comforted
until he returned.
In the living room he paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light of
the moon. Standing stock still the shrewd Texan turned sharp ears and eagle
eyes on the downstairs of his home. Carefully scanning every inch of the open
space he knew so well, he mentally searched for anything out-of-place. As his
gaze passed the kitchen, two things caught his attention.
           (Bingo)
   On the counter next to the sink sat a glass - one that wasn’t there when
he’d gone to bed - the last to retire as usual. Next to the glass was a can of
coke, obviously cold, as condensation still beaded on the side. He walked to
the kitchen to investigate further and in passing the bathroom, a faint sound
stopped him in his tracks. Pressing an ear to the door, Mike listened intently,
anxious to know what was happening on the other side. For a moment, nothing
came of his efforts. Then just as he was about to step away, a low moaning
drifted through the wood to reach his ears.
           (Davy!)
   "Tiny?" He said, tapping on the door. "Shotgun, are you okay?”
   "Oh, Mike."
   "Davy I'm coming in."
   Without waiting for an answer, he eased open the door. There in the corner
Davy sat on the floor, slumped against the wall beside the toilet.
   "Tiny!" He cried, rushing to his friend, "What’sa matter?"
   The sour smell struck him as he knelt down, and closing the lid of the
commode, he flushed away the vomit that was befouling the air. Barefoot and
wearing only his pajama pants, Davy lay against the wall pale-faced and
trembling. Chocolate colored bangs were pasted to his forehead with a thin
sheen of sweat that chilled his upper body. Gingerly, Mike brushed them to one
side.
   "What can I do to help?"
   "W-wet washcloth, p-please."
   Working quickly, Mike saturated a washrag in the basin, squeezing out the
excess water. Very gently, he wiped the back of Davy's neck, his forehead and
cheeks.
   "Think you can get up with some help? Just sit down here on the commode?"
   Still feeling puny, Davy nodded, reaching for Mikes extended hand. He stood
for a moment on watery legs, still in Mike's sure grip, before pivoting
slightly to sit on the toilets closed lid. Mike sat on the side of the bathtub
opposite him, watching him waver unsteadily.
   "What happened?"
   "I came down fer a Coke cuz me stomach was upset. I managed to get a glass n
grab a can from the fridge n had to dash into the bathroom. Made it just in
time too."
   Making the obligatory check for a fever, Mike put his wrist to Davy's cheek
and forehead.
   "Temperature is okay, do ya feel sick?"
   "Not really, just me stomach. Little shaky, but tha's it."
   "Think you can walk to the couch? I'll help ya get there."
   "I'll give it a go."
   Supported by Mike's sturdy right arm Davy made his way to the living room,
being deposited firmly on the love seat. Mike went into the kitchen, bringing
him his coke to soothe his turbulent tummy.
   "Are you cold Tiny? You're shakin' from head to toe!"
   "N-no I'm not cold, j-just jittery."
   "Are ya sure you're not feelin sick?" Mike asked again, reaching for his
shoulder.
Jerking away, Davy was up like a shot.
   "D-don't touch me, p-please!"
   "What’sa matter with you Davy?"
   "Just lemme alone Mike!" he said a little louder, taking a step backwards.
   "Tiny what in Sam Hill-"
   "What's going on?" Peter asked sleepily from the bedroom doorway.
   On hearing his voice, Davy’s head jerked to the left. Alarm in his eyes he
backed against the wall, wrapping himself in a tight hug.
   "Michael, what's the matter with him?"
   "I'm not sure Cotton. You stay here with him, I'm gonna go get Micky!"
   Taking the steps two at a time, he raced to the second floor bedroom. Not
concerned with courtesy or modesty he flung open the door and flipped on the
overhead light. Startled by the harsh glare Micky came awake, shielding his
eyes and muttering about the intrusion.
   "What the hell Mike, what are you-"
   "Get downstairs NOW - something is wrong with Davy!"
   "Huh?!"
   Fully alert and out of bed he followed Mike down the steps at a mad pace.
They reached the front room to find Peter kneeling on the floor a few feet away
from Davy, who was now crouching where Mike had left him moments before.
   "Calm down Davy, it's just me, Peter. You know I would never hurt you - I
just wanna try to help you, make you feelbetter."
   Wide-eyed and trembling Davy was drawn up tightly into himself, his gaze
darting from one to the other of his roommates. Slowly Peter inched closer,
reaching out a hand toward his frightened friend.
   "N-NO!" Davy spat.
   "Easy Peter," Mike warned.
   "It’s okay Davy," Peter soothed, reaching for his hand.
   Without warning, Davy sprang to his feet, his left leg coming out in defense
like a bolt of lightning his kick connected squarely with Peter's chin. Caught
off guard, the gentle man's head snapped up sharply. Tumbling backwards with
incredible force he spun over once, slamming his head into the corner of the
coffee table.
   "PETER!" Micky cried.
   "Good God COTTON - are you alright?"
   "I'm okay," he said, shaking his head a little, "don't be mad at Davy, he
doesn't know what he's doing."
   "Little one," Micky said, attempting to talk him down, "it's alright - it’s
just me, it's Micky - can I just hold you?"
   A loud keening wail came moaning up from deep within him, as he stared at
them in a semi-circle around him. He began to rock his body, his breathing
coming in harsh ragged pants.
   "What's happening to him?" Micky asked fearfully.
   "He's starting to hyperventilate! Peter quick, call Tony and get him over
here now!"
   "I've already called him Michael; he'll be here in a minute."
   Moments later, Tony came rushing through the door and into the fray.
Approaching the terrified, pale young man, he took careful measured steps.
   "Davy, kiddo - what's wrong buddy?"
   Faced with what his confused mind perceived as four large adversaries, Davy
edged along the wall aiming for the door - and effectively backed himself into
the corner instead. Turning in a panic, he clawed at the paneling seeking a
means of escape - quickly bloodying his fingertips.
   "Damn!" Tony shouted, retrieving a hypodermic from his pocket, "You two," he
directed Mike and Micky as he readied the injection, "get him by the arms and
hold him still!"
   Gingerly they stepped toward their battle-ready friend, attempting to grip
onto him but to no avail. Fighting them off with all his strength Davy was
verging on hysteria.
   "You've GOT to hold him down so I can get this into him - you aren't going
to hurt him now GET IN THERE!"
   Making a final brazen attempt they pinned Davy to the wall, getting a firm
grip on both of his arms. Tony swept in quickly, and locking his upper body in
a vise-like grip plunged the needle into his tricep, emptying the syringe of
its contents.
        Seconds later, Davy collapsed into his arms.
   Gently and with great sadness, Tony carried him up to his bed, where Micky
settled him in for a long rest.
   Down in the kitchen Tony tended to Peters injured head, while Mike brewed a
pot of strong coffee. When Micky came down, they sat in a dazed silence,
sipping the stout brew and contemplating the bizarre scene that had unfolded a
short time ago. Finally, Tony broke the reverie.
   "Okay, someone please: help me piece together what happened here tonight."
   "Well," Mike began it started like this here …"
  "So," Tony recapped, "he's been having issues for several days leading up to
this then? Micky, you sleep next to him; does he seem to be having any
nightmares or anything?"
   "Not that I've noticed, and he hasn't mentioned it to me."
   "His appetite is fluctuating and he's been vomiting but no fever, irritable
and moody.. I don't know."
   "Sounds like he's pregnant," Micky chuckled, humor his best defense when
overwhelmed.
   "Well this morning he had a full blown panic attack, so there's definitely
something going on with him."
   "Could it be a residual effect from his brain injury?"
   "That's a great question Mike. Dr. Bowen said everything was normal
neurologically speaking, but perhaps a fresh CT scan is in order. I'll give him
a call later today and see what he thinks."
   "What did you hit Davy with anyway Tone - I've never seen anybody drop like
that before!"
   "Lorazepam: It’s generally used for insomnia in mild doses. In a mental
health setting however it's used at higher levels to control manic and high-
anxiety patients in an emergency situation."
   "Just how do you know all of that - and how is it you happen to have
psychiatric drugs and needles at your disposal?"
   "Relax Mike, I'm not a terrorist or an evil maniac - I'm a fully trained and
licensed paramedic. Almost went to medical school, but life had other plans."
   "No kidding! I'm very much impressed! Why don't you do the job?"
   "Long story, definitely meant for another day. Like I said, my life was
meant to take a different path."
   "So how long will he be knocked out?"
   "Honestly it varies from person to person. With his weight and metabolism
and the fury of his attack, my guess would be about six hours. Could be
anywhere from five to twelve hours truth be told."
   "I feel so bad that I couldn't help him," Peter said solemnly, "I really
thought I'd be able to calm him down."
   "Peter, if anyone could have reached him I'm certain it would've been you.
The state he was in my friend, he was beyond getting through to."
   "I dunno about y'all, but I need to go back to bed. I'm plum tuckered."
   "Be a good idea for everyone to try and get some sleep, there's no way of
knowing what condition Davy will be in when he wakes up. Don't hesitate to call
me if you need me, I'll be over later to look in on all of you."
   "Thanks for all your help Tony."
   "Any time."
   "C'mon Peter, let's get some sleep."
   "Later guys, and Mike - thanks a lot man."
   "I love Tiny Mick, of course I'd be there for him, but I still wanna turn
him over my knee, the ornery lil cuss."
***** Chapter 4 *****
   Davy slept quietly wrapped in Micky's arms until late in the morning. When
he finally began to stir, Micky's radar was up in an instant. Immediately
alert, he experienced the unique pleasure of watching his little one come
awake: First he wriggled his body, looking much like a cherubic child in the
midst of a pleasant dream. Stretching his wiry frame in a feline posture, he
arched his back - a tiny yawn drawing plump lips momentarily apart - his tongue
flashing out to moisten their sleep-dried surface.
   Turning his head slightly he raised a fist to rub the sleep grains from the
corners of his eyes, bringing an amused grin to his lovers lips. Chin resting
on one palm, Micky watched mesmerized as Davy's long, lush eyelashes fluttered,
the lids sliding back to reveal the honey-brown eyes he so easily got lost in.
   "Morning gorgeous."
   "Hi there."
   "But damn you're something to look at. I could lay here all day and just
watch you sleep."
   "Kinda hard to do now that I'm awake n all," he smiled.
   "Well since you are, I can lay here and kiss you instead."
   "Well then, wha's 'oldin you back?"
   "Come here little one."
   Drawing him closer, Micky embraced him firmly but tenderly, laying feathery
kisses on his welcoming lips. His right hand pressing on his back, he urged him
closer against him, their bodies melding together at every interval. A twinge
of warmth tingled between his legs as Davy brushed his tongue across his lower
lip, a teasing quest for Micky to delve into his lover’s waiting mouth. Eager
fingers worked the buttons on his pajama shirt as his own roving hands gripped
the firm contours of Davy's perfect ass.
   An appreciative moan gurgled into his mouth as involuntary he ground his
hips forward, forcing their hard-ons to rub against each other, small hands
shooting up to tangle in his hair.
   "Less clothes, now please," Davy whispered mischievously.
   "Oh baby, yes!"
   Their enthusiasm was suddenly quelled by a sharp knock on the bedroom door.
   "NOT RIGHT NOW!" Micky called.
   "It's Tony. I need to see Davy downstairs - right now."
   "Aww c'mon Tony please - cahn't it wait fer FIVE minutes?"
   "TEN minutes!" Micky countered.
   "No, come down now please, both of you."
   A series of indistinguishable expletives from inside the room followed Tony
down the steps, where he waited in the kitchen for the disgruntled lovebirds.
  Two minutes passed and the boys finally made an appearance, sour grapes and
scowls for the whole group gathered at the table.
   "I'm very sorry to have disturbed your morning revelry," Tony said bluntly,
"but I felt that this meeting took precedence; do forgive me."
   "This'd bettah be good," Davy barked, "I'm not a happy guy right now."
   "My apologies to the little general," Tony saluted, "but this is rather
serious, have a seat gentlemen."
   "I made coffee and tea," Peter spoke up, "do either of you want anything?"
   "What I want-" Davy began to balk.
   "Keep it outside of the sheets kiddo," Tony advised.
   "Coffee," Micky said, clamping a hand over Davy's mouth, "for both of us."
   "Alright," Davy groused, giving Micky a sideways glare, "wha's the big
emergency?"
   "How did you sleep last night kiddo?"
   Davy stared blankly at his benefactor, struggling to hold his temper in
check.
   "Here ya go, two coffees, more tea for you Mike and a refill for Tony."
   "Thank you Peter."
   "Thanks shotgun."
   "My pleasure."
   "D'you mean to tell me you interrupted GREAT wake-up sex to drag me down
'ere n ahsk me 'ow I slept?"
   "Humor me Davy, would you please?"
   Looking at the others in disbelief, he ducked his head for a moment,
gathering himself together.
   "Alright, I slept like a baby. I didn't wake up to piss lahst night - m'not
sure I even rolled ovah in my sleep! NOW can I go upstairs n finish me
business?"
   "Not so fast. Anyone here care to counter Davy's statement?"
   Three hands, including Tony's, flew straight up in the air - the fourth a
bit slower and somewhat timidly.
   "Wha's all this?"
   "Since the beginning is the best place to start, Mike why don't you open
things up. Everyone can fit the pieces in as they come into the picture."
   "Well Tiny, it's like this…"
   Davy listened in stunned silence as the story unfolded over the next thirty
minutes, each of the four adding details as the chapter progressed. Unable to
fathom what he was hearing, he sat staring at the table, waiting for the saga
to end. When they had finished, he sat quietly thoughtful. Looking at Tony, he
finally spoke.
   "I'm not sure why, but you must be 'aving me on. I'd remember doing all
those things - I know I would - n I'd nevah hurt Petah fer anythin' in the
world."
   "I'm sorry kiddo, its all true. Every bit of it happened."
   "Prove it."
   "Okay, let's start with Peter's head injury. Peter - come over here if you
will."
   Reluctantly, Davy examined the tiny cut on the back of his bandmates head,
and the purplish bruise beneath his chin where Davy had kicked him earlier that
day.
   "Okay, 'es hurt. Doesn't mean that I'm responsible."
   "Alright, the bruises on your arms. How did you get them last night Davy?"
   Looking down, he was shocked to see fingerprint shaped marks in blue and
green hues dotting both of his forearms. With no explanation he grasped at the
only straw he could, knowing it was crap before it came out of his mouth.
   "I must've done it doin’ my exercises yesterday with Mike"
   "Alright Davy, it's a load of bunk - but I'll let you have that one anyway.
I have three more for you that you cannot deny in any way whatsoever."
   "Go ahead n try," he said more confidently than he was feeling.
   "Explain the needle mark on your left arm - and this empty syringe still in
my pocket."
   Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out the empty needle, laying it on the
table in front of him. With large, frightened eyes, Davy stared at it, rubbing
the pinprick below his shoulder.
   "Now look lastly at your hands. The blood is still there - dried to your
fingertips where it sat when you collapsed in my arms - after digging at the
wall with your bare hands. Explain that away. Explain the bloody prints on the
wall."
   Suddenly pale, Davy began to tremble once more. The realization of what had
occurred settling into him had him reeling, unsure of what was happening in his
own mind.
   "Listen to me Davy," Tony said in a commanding tone, "do NOT check out on
me! This is not uncommon, and you'renot losing your mind. You had a panic
attack - what we don't know at this point is why. Are you still with me kiddo?"
   A bit calmer, Davy nodded slowly, trying to comprehend what Tony was telling
him.
   "It's not a disease, it is treatable and it happens to a lot of other
people."
   "How do I stop it from 'appening again?" He asked timidly.
   "Well, there are a number of ways to manage anxiety; the key is to eliminate
the cause. Until we determine what that is, looking for signs that your stress
levels are building is an important step in curtailing further attacks."
   "You mean like when he's gettin real ornery?"
   "Or if he's sick to his stomach?"
   "Those appear to be two huge precepts to him becoming overly anxious, yes. I
think it may help you to go and talk to someone - a professional. Talk out some
of your stressors."
   "You mean a bloody 'ead shrink?"
   "Aaand he's back!" Micky grinned.
   "A psychiatrist or psychologist, yes; nothing wrong with that.”
   "Tiny, lots of folks go talk to a psychiatrist; it doesn't mean that they're
crazy, it means they're sane enough to ask for help."
   "It's just like having someone really smart to talk about your problems
with, nothing to it little one."
   "All I'm asking you to do is give it a try kiddo, a couple of visits and
maybe something to calm your nerves till we figure this all out."
   "I guess I can give it a chance, but I'll bloody move back to England before
anybody gets any wild ideas about lockin' me up in a padded white room!"
   "Good Lord Davy," Tony laughed, "you've been watching too much late-night
television. Modern mental health care is about keeping the patient involved in
society, living a normal life. Straight jackets and padded rooms are rarely
used and are generally reserved for the criminally insane. I'd say you're
relatively safe there kiddo."
   "Alright, I'll do it. But no pulling strings on me okay - everything on the
table."
   "You have my word Davy. I'll call and make an appointment. Meanwhile, let's
try switching you to decaf."
                                                                               
      *
   For much of the afternoon, Davy stayed closed up in his room, upset and
worrying. Uncharacteristically skipping lunch, he chose instead to sit on the
upstairs balcony sipping tea, even refusing Micky's invitation for an afternoon
swim.
In spite of drinking herbal tea he found himself rather jittery, fidgeting in
the deck chair, his body trembling for no apparent reason. Bored silly but
eager to avoid his roommates, he decided a lengthy nap was in order. Settling
into the pillows, he was just nodding off when Micky came into the room.
   "Hey Dave, you goin to sleep?"
   "Well, I WAS."
   "Oh," he said in a softer tone, "sorry babe."
   Energized from a refreshing swim, Micky was anything but tired. Moving
around the room, he tinkered and touched, rattled,  rustled and otherwise
noise-made in every corner of the small space much to Davy's irritation.
Finally settled down at the desk, he decided to work on one of his many
unfinished projects: A combination automatic potato peeler slash dust buster
hand-vac.
   The idea was to cut down on the time and effort that went into peeling large
amounts of potatoes while sucking up the mess at the same time. The concept was
great, but something was wrong with the mechanics: all he'd managed to do so
far is mangle the raw potatoes, flinging chunks everywhere. Intending to make
some minor adjustments, he grabbed the electric screwdriver from the bottom
drawer. Applying the tip to the 'Taternaters' torque screw, he hit the power
button. A shrill piercing grinding squeal shattered the quiet calm, nearly
sending Davy through the bars of the headboard.
   "Are you insane??" He roared, sitting stiffly upright in the bed, "ya nearly
gave me a heart attack!"
   "I'm sorry little one, I thought I'd set it in reverse - it stripped the
head of the screw."
   "Cahn't you do something else? Something that doesn't require power tools?"
   "Wanna play cards?"
   "I want to take a nap!"
   "I'll let you win."
   "Micky!"
   "Alright, okay. How bout I come over there and.. tuck you in?"
   "M'not in the mood."
   "Boy you are cranky. Can I lay down with you?"
   "Can you lie still and shut up?"
   "Yaa, I think so."
   "Come on then, but I'm going to SLEEP, understand?"
   "Yaa, yaa. Party pooper."
   Micky shed his jacket and crawled in next to his testy little lover, curling
up on his side attempting to get comfortable.
   "Bloody fuck Micky!"
   "What?"
   "Yer flippin' feet are like ice blocks!"
   "I know a great way to-"
   You've a one-track mind d'youknow that?"
   "I can't help it Davy, you're so freaking hot it's hard to think about
anything else around you."
   "Point earned," he smiled behind him, "but I'm still gonna take a nap,
handsome."
   "I love you too cookie."
                                                                                     
*
   Dinnertime came and went with nothing on the table - or the stovetop. Out on
the beach with Peter, Mike's rumbling stomach alerted him that it was well past
chow time, and nobody had called them up for supper.
   "Michael I'm getting hungry, is it almost time for dinner?"
   "It's way past dinner time shotgun, and someone's asleep at the wheel -
literally I'd bet. Come on babe; let's go see what's going on."
   Walking back to the house they ran into Tony, who had been watering his
early tomato plants on his back deck. Noting the disgruntled look on Mike's
face, he decided to ask a few casual questions.
   "Evening guys. I'm surprised to see you out here this time of day, aren't
you usually having dinner about now?"
   "USUALLY, yes," Mike grumbled, "I believe the cook is still in conference
with Morpheus though. I'm fixin' to put a boot up his behind."
   "If my calculations are correct, that would be our little Englishman,
correct?"
   "Yep, it's his turn tonight. Got a feeling it's gonna be cold sandwiches and
potato chips - but I'll be having his ass for dessert you can bet on it!"
   "Would you do something for me Mike? If he did manage to bungle dinner
tonight, could you find it in you to cut him some slack this time?"
   "Why is that?"
   "I have a feeling that something more is bubbling under the surface,
emotionally speaking, than Davy is letting on - some sleep problems or
nightmares - something that's causing whatever is happening in his head. If he
has slept all afternoon, he obviously needed the rest. I'll spring for a nice
meal, whatever you're hungry for. I just don't want to add any more stress than
necessary until we know what his issues are."
   "I can appreciate that, and you don't need to buy us dinner man, we'll
figure sumthin else out."
   "I don't mind, really. I have been so wrapped up with my gardening I’ve
forgotten to eat supper myself. What do you say, char-broiled rib eyes or cold
ham sandwiches?"
   "When you put it like THAT you're a hard man to argue with. Saturday night
though I'm makin' supper n you'll be eating with us -I insist - just tell me
whatcha wanna have and it'll be on the table."
   "It's a deal."
                                                                                     *
   Once again, Davy and Micky were cuddling when Tony came to knock on the
door. Irritated, Davy flung the door open clad only in his BVDs.
   "You've gotta have the most impeccably lousy timing of anybody I know d'you
know that?"
   Sashaying back to sit on the end of the bed he pounced down, drawing one
knee to his chest.
   "Wha' now? Tell me I didn't get stupid again in my sleep?"
   "No, not exactly. You did sleep though, straight on through your night to
cook dinner."
   "Bloomin hell!" He declared, falling back on the bed, one hand smacking his
forehead.
   "Never fear my dear boy; I'm craving meat in a huge way tonight, so I'm
buying take-out. I just wanted to know how you two want your rib eyes and what
two sides."
   "From Mastros?"
   "Yes Micky, from Mastros."
   "I freaking LOVE that place! Marry me?"
   "Hey!" Davy objected.
   "Just kidding babe."
   "Quickly gentleman, people are wasting away downstairs. Poor Peter is
resorting to chewing on the checkers."
   "Medium well with a side salad and corn on the cob."
   "Well done with a baked sweet potato and a salad."
   "Dessert?"
   "Praline pecan pie!" They said in unison.
   "Like I needed to ask," Tony chuckled. "Shouldn't be more than forty
minutes. If your door is closed when the food comes I'm not coming to get you,
so if you're going to.. frolic - I suggest you do it quickly."
   "Wha?! Butcha can come knockin' when we're in the middlmmphh-"
   "We'll be ready when dinner gets here," Micky grinned, his hand covering
Davy’s mouth once more.
   "Okay, we'll see."
   "Will ya cut tha'out!" Davy griped when Tony had closed the door.
   "I'm sorry, but your mouth has been working overtime lately, I don't want
you getting grounded from using it. You use it.. so well."
   "Hmm."
   "Where were we?"
   "You were just about to shine my knob fer me," Davy grinned wickedly.
   "Ohhh no no, that was yesterday cookie. If anybody's getting on their knees
today, it's you little one."
   "If I recall correctly, I WAS on my knees - you nearly sent me through the
headboard with yer eager hips!"
   "Okay, so you suck me off and then I'll let you have whatever YOU want.
Fair?"
   "It SOUNDS good, but we'll nevah get through all of that in thirty-six
minutes."
   "So do me now, and after dinner you can fuck my brains out."
   "Ahftah dinnah I won't be able to move! Not 'appening."
   "Shit."
   "So now what,"
   "Could do a sixty-nine?"
   "Or we could wait till tonight since we slept all ahftahnoon and work off
all that food?"
   "Swap quick hand jobs?"
   "Meet me in the shower."
   "I'm already halfway there."
                                                                                     
*
   Down in the living room Mike sat tinkering with a tune on his guitar while
Peter busied himself setting the table for dinner. The serene atmosphere was
abruptly shattered when the upstairs bedroom door flew open, its occupants
storming down the steps in a vocal uproar.
   "C'mon Davy I said I was sorry."
   "Oh yer realfriggin' sorry alright, beg off Dolenz!"
   "I'm telling you it was an accident, I just wasn't paying attention!"
   "Yaa fine - then ya all but piss yerself laughing about it; get outta my
space before this gets nahsty!”
   "What in the world-"
   "One FUCKING word about this n so 'elp me Micky I will get even with you!"
   "I'm not gonna say anything but you're the one that brought this argument
downstairs cookie."
   "I'm trying to get away from you! Stop following me - and stop talking to me
while yer at it!"
   "What'd you do Micky, break his pecker? He's madder than a wet hen!" Mike
teased.
   "Mind yer own business you!" Davy snapped.
   "Oh shit!" Micky breathed.
   "Michael don't, please," Peter pleaded.
   "You mouthy obnoxious little cuss!" He said, setting his guitar aside, "just
who d'you think you are to talk to anybody like that?!
   "Nobody you wanna piss off!"
   "Umm Davy-"
   "You looking for a little piece of Texas shotgun?"
   "You want a Manchestah Kiss you shit kicker?"
   "What the hell is going on in here?" Tony demanded from the front door.
   "Your boy is about to git his ass whooped that's what!" Mike said,
struggling to reach past Peter and Micky, "I'm fixing to shut his mouth up for
him!"
   "Fuck off Mike, ya don't scare me!"
   "Davy; enough!” Tony ordered, "Neutral corners, both of you!"
   With Micky and Peter's assistance, Tony managed to corral Mike in the living
room, cornering Davy in the kitchen, looking for an explanation. Without going
into specifics, Davy admitted to being upset with Micky, taking it out on
Mike's good-natured, ill-timed humor.
   "If it wasn't a big deal, why won't you tell me what the argument was
about?"
   "Forget it, not gonna happen."
   "Fine, have it your way. Micky can I see you please?"
   "I'm warning you Micky -"
   "Put a lid on it kiddo - either you tell me or I'll get it out of him. "
   "This is bloodybullshit!"
   "Micky?"
   "Alright but my blood will be on your hands. We were in the shower trying to
get a quickie in before dinner; just, ya know swapping out hand jobs. I wasn't
paying attention and I grabbed what I THOUGHT was a tube of lube to use on him
only it wasn't lube.. it was muscle rub. Bout set him onfire."
   "EEEE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HEEE!” Mike cackled with glee, "Oh my GOD I'd have PAID
to see the look on his face!"
   "Come over 'ere n get a good look arse'ole as its smashin into yer nose!"
   Still laughing hysterically, Mike was having too much fun to even take the
bait.
   "David that'll do! Now, first things first: Did you manage to.. fix the
situation?"
   "It took a good twenty minutes or so but we washed it all off."
   "Are you hurt or in any pain Davy? I've probably got some burn cream if you
need it."
   "No way man, m'not putting anything else near my junk, forget it!"
   "Okay, so to create a reasonable environment conducive to good digestion,
I'm going to have to send you up to your room with your dinner."
   "Why me?"
  "Because I don't have the authority to send Mike or Micky to theirs. I'm
sorry Davy, I'm sure this isn't entirely your responsibility, but it's the most
logical solution to ending the fuss."
   "Tony don't send him up there alone," Micky said, "I'll go upstairs. Let him
eat with the family."
   "Very generous of you. Doesn't solve the problem between Davy and Mike."
   "Just forget it," Davy grumbled, "I don't even care. I'm not even freaking
hungry anymore!"
   "Cool down shotgun let's hold on a minute," Mike stepped in, "Look Tiny I'm
sorry I laughed at your predicament, and I shouldn't have stuck my nose in it
in the first place. Can we call a truce and sit down to supper all peaceful
like?"
   Still miffed Davy considered the options. He didn't want to cave in, but the
smell of the steaks was taunting his nose - his stomach, traitor that it was,
rumbled its two-cents worth from below. Mouth suddenly watering he made up his
mind.
   "Okay, truce."
   Properly sealing a gentlemens' treaty with a handshake, he turned a cool eye
on his boyfriend, The Ben-Gay Bandit, and considered his pouty face for a
moment.
   "As fer you," Davy said, still dealing with the cool burning in his nether
regions, "I'll drop the argument and sit down to dinnah - but I'm sitting
ACROSS the table from you. I don't want you getting mixed up again and putting
shaving cream on my pie instead of cool whip."
   Tony, Mike and Peter fought to keep the tiny grins that played around the
corners of their mouths from slipping away from them, becoming full-blown
chuckles, snorts and guffaws. Davy brought the drinks to the table, taking a
seat on the opposite side of Tony beside Peter. Seated across from him, Micky
wore a dejected look, attempting to change his mind.
   "Save it slick," Davy muttered, buttering his sweet potato, "just eat yer
food n stop tryin to give me the guilties. It's not gonna work."
   "Are you sure?" Micky asked playfully, "I could cry, hold my breath, beg on
my knees - whatever you think will do the trick. It feels so empty over here."
   "Get a dog."
   "Or," Mike snickered, "you could always put the tube of Ben Gay in his
chair."
   "Funny Mike, real cute."
   "At least it wasn't the rubber cement like that time Mi-"
   "Peter your foods gonna get cold," Mike interrupted, "you know how you HATE
cold food."
   "Wha' happened with Mike n the rubbah cement Petah?" Davy grinned, now
curious.
   "He wasn't saying Mike he said my - like my sister. Yaa. His sister. Pass
the hot sauce there will ya Micky?"
   "Peter doesn't have any sisters," Micky pointed out.
   "I swear dinner over here always includes free entertainment," Tony piped
in, "my apologies Mike but I'm too intrigued to stop myself. Tell us Peter,
what's the story with the rubber cement?"
   "I.. HIC.. HIC ..."
   "Might as well forget about it Tone, he's too scared to tell it now."
   "Every time Petah gets really scared 'e gets the-"
   "HIC"
   " ... Hiccups."
   "Why are you scared Peter?"
   "HIC.. HIC.. HIC ..."
   "Cuz he thinks I'm gonna be mad if he tells y'all about the rubber cement,"
Mike said, dropping his fork on his plate, "It's okay Peter, I'm not gonna get
mad at you shotgun. It IS funny lookin back at it. " he grinned.
   "You okay now Pete?"
   "Yes I'm much better Micky thanks."
   "Wow," Tony said, amazed at his recovery.
   "S'come on," Davy said with a mouthful of rib eye, "SOMEBODY tell us wha'
'appened!"
   "Oh God," Mike sighed, "okay, it was back when Cotton and I first started
seeing each other, before we got to doin a whole lot in the bedroom yet. At
that point, we mostly did for ourselves in front of each other and at the time,
money was REALLY tight. I'd bought the rubber cement to make a repair on my old
guitar and left the tube on the nightstand like an idiot. That night we went to
doin our thing and Peter had picked up the lube already - well I reach over to
use it and grab the only tube sitting there - the rubber cement. Didn't bother
lookin at it - nope - too busy watching Cotton here do his thing, so I squeeze
it into my hand and start goin to town."
   "You're not serious!"
   "Don't interrupt, I've gotta know wha' happens next!"
   "Well about five minutes passed and I notice it's getting harder to.. move
my hand. All of a sudden I let out a yelp that'd wake the dead in Tokyo - cuz I
realize my hand is seriously STUCK to my dick!"
   "At first," Peter spoke up, "when I heard him howling I thought he was
feeling really good, Michael can be very vocal. But then he starts cussing and
yelling 'DAMN IT PETER IMSTUCK!' - and I knew something was wrong."
   "How did you get out of that mess?"
   "Well first of all y'all should know that Good Ol Peter here proceeded to
finish his own hand job before he done a dadblamed thing to help me!"
   "But I was so close," Peter said innocently.
   Tony, Micky and Davy burst into uproarious peals of uncontrollable laughter,
particles of salad, potato and steak spraying into their plates. Mike waited
patiently for the hysteria to die down, calmly forking in the last of his
steak.
   "Are y'all finished? Okay then. When I finally got his attention we tried
everything from soap and water to lemon juice, and by God nothing would loosen
that shit up! Peter had to chase around LA County for five hours looking for a
special solvent made just for dissolving this glue. He finally found a twenty-
four hour drug store that had some. You should've seen me walkin all bent in
half, hand stuck to my crotch running through the living room naked to go take
a piss - praying that Micky wouldn't come home with a date!"
   "Oh my God I'd have PAID to see all of this going on," Davy laughed, "and
you were laughing at me?"
   "That's just it Tiny, I could laugh because I've been there."
   "If I'd known about this beforehand, it probably wouldn't have pissed me orf
so much when you did."
   "Unfortunately kiddo we aren't always privy to all the answers, so sometimes
it's better to just find the humor in life and go on."
   "So wha' would you do if someone put muscle rub on yer johnson?"
   "Before or after I called them an ambulance?"
   "Why would you call them ambulance if it's your junk that’s on fire?"
   "Because when I was finished with them, they'd need medical attention."
   "I rest my case." Davy grinned.
   "I said I was sorry."
   "I know, several times."
   "C'mon Davy, how can I make it up to you? I hate it when you're mad at me."
   "I have an idea," Mike said with a mischievous grin.
   "Wha's that?"
   "He could put the muscle rub on his own-"
   "ARE YOU CRAZY?!" Micky shouted.
   "Interesting," Davy nodded, "but that could be a problem if we go at it
laytah."
   "Whew!"
   "Blow jobs for a week," Peter volunteered.
   "We're gettin warmer, 'ow bout you Tony - you got any brilliant ideas?"
   "I'm sure I could come up with some fairly reasonable and sadistic means of
making things even; however I feel a certain indebtedness to our Micky, so I’m
going to plead the fifth on this one.”
   "God bless you!" Micky smiled.
   Snapping his fingers, Davy's face lit up with malicious glee.
   "I've got it! You wanna make it right - give me yer dessert."
   "My PIE??"
   "Yer pie or we can go upstairs and find the Ben Gay."
   ".. How long will you give me to think it over?"
   "Tell you what, I'm gonna eat my dessert, when I'm finished - I expect an
ahnsah."
   With Micky's full attention, Davy opened the styrofoam carton containing his
pie, turning it sideways to be sure that his captive audience had a perfect
view. Stifling a grin, Davy was pleased to hear the breathy 'OHH' from across
the table, in spite of Micky's whispery enunciation of the syllable.
   Making a grand show of things, Davy licked his lips in anticipation, eyeing
the decadent dessert like a virgin boy looking at is first nudie magazine -
eyes gleaming - desire and wonder evident in their brown depths. Peeling back
the lid on the cool whip, he scooped out two generous tablespoons of the thick
creamy topping onto the moist brown-sugary wedge. With a salacious swipe of his
tongue he licked the spoon, head slightly lowered - eyes boring into those of
his lover's.
   Entirely too amused to bother with their own desserts, the others watched
the torturous scene their youngest was performing for the benefit of a certain
Italian drummer, taking entirely too much pleasure from watching him squirm.
Dipping his fork into the foodgasm before him, Davy brought the first luscious
bite to his parted lips. Eyes gently closed he partook of a flavor explosion -
the perfect mixture of traditional pecan pie and sweet southern pralines - and
uttered a low moan. With each bite, Micky opened his mouth as Davy did, as if
tasting it vicariously, a trace of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth.
Finally swallowing the last piece, he leaned back in his seat and held his
rounded belly.
   "Oh man was that excellent! You fellas 'ave to try that some time, really!"
   He turned a mischievous grin on the pitiful figure seated opposite him, and
folding his arms across his chest, he cocked his head charmingly to one side.
   "Ello luv!"
   Micky sighed heavily, knowing what was coming.
   "Didja make up yer mind yet? I'll be 'appy to take care of yer dessert for
ya, save you from all that pain and humiliation."
   The red tinge started at the tip of his nose, spreading rapidly outward to
cover Micky's entire face as he felt the others eyes glued to him, waiting to
hear his decision. His own eyes shifted from Davy's piercing stare to the box
in front of him holding the sumptuous treat he craved so badly. Mentally, he
shifted to the image of Davy in the shower, practically in tears from the
earlier mix-up with the tube of mentholated gel.
           (shit.. shit)
   "Tell ya wha'," Davy said slyly, reaching for the box of pie, "lemme make
this easy fer ya."
   Lunging forward with both hands grabbing the box and clutching it to his
chest, Micky made his own fateful decision.
   "NO - I'LL TAKE MY PUNISHMENT - Please PLEASE don't eat my pie!"
   "Yer sure about this - I've got three witnesses ya know!
   Still holding the container close like some bizarre security blanket, Micky
nodded enthusiastically.
   "Alright, but remembah - was yer choice babe."
   "Unbelievable," Tony said with a shake of his head, "I'd have bet good money
you were getting a second piece of pie. I'm the masochist around here."
   "Really!" Mike said, raising an eyebrow, "Never would have pegged you as the
type!"
   "Not to sound like a smartass Mike, but what makesyou an expert on the
subject if I may ask?"
   "Are yakidding?" Davy asked, "Mike's as big a sadist as they come without
leavin blood behind."
   "Not to ignore that proud Texas grin, but tell me Davy, how do YOU know
this?"
   "Erm.. they uh sleep right below us?"
   "Hmm."
   "Not to pry where I don't belong, but Peter your personality doesn't seem to
line up as the masochistic type. How is it that you fit into this - lifestyle -
with your peaceful nature?"
   "It's probably because of my pacifism that I'm ideally suited to be a sexual
partner to Michael's sadistic tendencies. If I were any less easy going, it's
unlikely that I'd be so eager to have him in the 'driver's seat' if you will.
Frankly, I happen to enjoy the thrill he gets from the mind games he plays.
Even on the rare occasions when he gets physically hurtful, there is always a
sensual element to it that makes the whole experience erotic. I love it when
he's in charge."
   "I go both ways, though to be truthful I've been leaning more in the master
direction these last few.. times."
   "Few wha'? WHA’ times?” Davy sputtered, taken aback.
   "You sound a bit surprised kiddo."
   "I didn't know you had a.. a erm …”
   "I don't have anyone steady. I have - let's call them liaisons. You wouldn't
know about it because I am quite discrete. Don't ask; that’s all you’re going
to get on the subject.”
   "Well to round out the conversation," Mike chimed in, "I must say that it
makes me proud to see our Tiny here taking his first baby steps in a world that
I'm so comfortable in. I've just got one small thing to ask of you Davy."
   "Oh yaa, wha's that?"
   "When it comes time to take Micky upstairs and do the chosen deed, be kind
enough to leave the door open just a bit. I really wanna hear him squeal like a
little girl."
***** Chapter 5 *****
   Micky paced the floor of their room waiting for Davy to come upstairs.
Hindsight was kicking him in the gut as he contemplated the hand he was about
to be dealt - a fate he'd foolishly brought down upon himself in exchange for
six minutes of gastronomic satisfaction. When Davy opened the door, Micky
stopped in his tracks: a small squeak involuntary issuing from his suddenly dry
throat. Knees knocking together he watched as Davy closed and locked the door,
an impish glint in his eyes.
   "You ready?"
   "As ready as I'm gonna get."
   "I suppose I'm gonna let you do this in the bathroom near the water n all;
m'not sure why but I'm feeling generous. Come on babe."
   Like a man walking the last mile to his execution Micky moved at a snail's
pace, his head lowered, hands hanging limply at his sides: A sharp ear could
almost hear Louis Armstrong blowing out the first bars of "Nobody Knows The
Trouble I've Seen".
          (Blindfold and last cigarette not included)
   "You should probably strip," Davy suggested, leaning against the wall, "what
with getting into the shower and all that rot."
   Kicking off his moccasins Micky pulled the tail of his shirt from inside his
jeans and began working the buttons. Tiny beads of sweat were forming on his
forehead, his breath coming in short ragged puffs. Reaching in front of him,
Davy picked up the still-open tube of minty-smelling balm, tossing it in the
air repeatedly in an almost taunting nature. Seeing this, Micky nearly fell off
the toilet lid.
   Finally naked he sat with both hands covering his now frightened genitals,
which were currently seeking refuge by attempting to disappear into his pelvis.
   "Alright big guy, on yer feet - get in the showah."
   Bravely, Micky stood and stepped over the side of the tub. Pressing himself
flat against the wall near the showerhead, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut,
turning his head to the left.
   "Okay, get it over with."
   "Brace yerself, it's gonna be a shock."
   Reaching into the stall Davy grabbed the nozzle, blasting Micky with a full
spray of icy-cold water from the shower, standing back and laughing
hysterically.
   "AAAHHHH!" Micky shrieked, "That's FREAKING COLD!"
   "Now," Davy said, cackling, "I can go to bed 'appy! See you when it all
thaws out!"

   When Micky came out of the bathroom a while later, he looked like a wet
chihuahua: Thin, shivering and quite cross. Wordlessly, he skulked around to
his side of the bed and sat down, his back to his trickster of a boyfriend.
   "Are ya pissed at me?"
   "No. I wanted to be, but it occurred to me it could've been a whole lot
worse. Thanks."
   "Micky I could nevah intentionally hurt you, not even if you deserved it.
What 'appended 'urt like crazy, but it was an accident."
   "We oughtta put the muscle rub in the medicine cabinet so that never happens
again!"
   "We cahn't."
   "Why not?"
   "Cuz while you were in the shower I went out on the balcony and chucked it
about fifty feet across the beach."
   ".. Or we could do that."
   "You ready fer bed?"
   "Nothin else to do, your's is too hot, mine is too cold and if we put em
together I'm afraid it may cause a cataclysmic event."
   "Right then, 'ow bout a good cuddle n off to dreamland?"
   "Right now I'd settle for a handshake and a pallet on the floor."
   "Oh come on, I promise no funny stuff. Besides I'm nice and toasty ovah
'ere, I'll 'ave ya feelin' like a sauna in two minits."
   "I couldn't not sleep next to you little one, I'd feel like an arm was
missing or something."
   "Yaa that's me alright - grow on ya I do."
   "Don't mention growing.."
   "G'night Micky."
   "Night cookie."
                                                                              
       *
   Friday morning after physical therapy, Tony drove Davy to his intake
appointment with Dr. Scott. After filling out enough paperwork to have
purchased a new house, they waited in the reception area to be called back.
Moments later, a tall dark-haired man in his late thirties - handsome and
athletic-looking - stepped into the room.
   "David, why don't you come on back? Mr. Martinelli, I'd like to see you
alone when we're finished, then I'll speak to you both together."
   Davy followed him into a large comfortable office with cherry-wood
furnishings. A blue velvet settee graced the back wall with two mauve wingback
chairs facing it. Potted plants dotted the ledges and tabletops, and lovely
pastel gardens grew in framed paintings on three walls.
   The fourth wall was a picture window with a fabulous view of the Pacific
Ocean, the pier and boardwalk adding a picturesque charm to the scene.
   "Please David," he pointed to two comfortable leather chairs in front of his
desk, "Have a seat."
   "Thank you."
   "Im Dr. Paul Scott, I am a state licensed and board certified psychiatrist,
psychologist and therapist. You can call me Paul if you're comfortable with it,
do you prefer David?"
   "Davy, please."
   "Okay Davy, I'd like your permission to audio record our sessions; no one
other than myself will hear the tapes at any time under any circumstances
without your consent. The purpose is simply for my own notes and evaluation,
would that be alright with you?"
   "Sure why not."
   Paul placed a handheld recorder on the desk between them and pressing the
record button continued with the intake.
   "I've read over your paperwork and spoke with your guardian briefly about
what's been going on at home. I want to tell you up front that anything you say
to me will be kept completely confidential, with the exception of two things:
If you tell me you're going to kill someone or that you are going to commit
suicide. By law and by oath, I have an obligation to act on such statements by
reporting them to the proper authorities and to protect you from yourself.
Understand?"
   "Yessir.. so anything I tell you - you cahn't even tell my family?"
   "Within the guidelines I just described, no. Not without your consent."
   Looking thoughtful, Davy nodded.
   "Now I'm going to ask a lot of nosy questions," he chuckled, "honest answers
will let me do more to help you, okay?"
   "Okay."
   "Are you considering suicide or any self harm at this time Davy?
   "No sir, I've got too much goin fer me to check out now."
   "Good to hear. Family circumstances; who do you live with?”
   "Well, I live next door to Tony with three roommates; we're in a band
together."
   "Really! Any success with it?"
   "We've 'ad a few gigs, but s'been a little dry lately with me bein' laid up
fer a while."
   "How well do you all get along, are you safe at home? Safe with your
guardian?"
   "Oh absolutely, doc these guys are all so ovah protective I cahn'tpay to
skin my knee!"
   "Girlfriend?"
   "Erm.. Boyfriend," he said sheepishly.
   "Is it a safe and consensual relationship?"
   "Yessir, Micky n I are great, 'es the drummer in our band."
   "Little delicate territory - remember though it's all strictly between us.
Any drug or alcohol use?"
   "Not really. Tony is Italian - one hundred percent - so it's not unusual fer
us to 'ave wine with Sunday dinner, but aside from that I've been drunk twice
and got high once, evah."
   "Thanks for your honesty. Any hallucinations? Hearing or seeing things that
nobody else can?"
   "No," he grinned, "not even when I was drinking."
   "So let's talk about what's going on with you recently. Agitated,
temperamental, argumentative, anxious - a full blown panic attack."
   "Yaa, I've been a right cantankerous little shit."
   "Interesting terminology, a sense of humor is a great defense when dealing
with a lot of stress, I like that. Anything else going on that I should know
about?"
   "Nothing that I can think of."
   "What about nightmares?"
   "No more than anybody else."
   "Are you sexually active?"
   "Ra-ther."
   "You've had quite a rough time these past five months from what I've been
told, it’s a lot for anyone to keep a lid on. Why don't you have Tony come in
for a bit, then I'll come get you and we'll wrap this all up."
   Forty minutes later, they were on their way to the pharmacy, to fill a
prescription for a mild anxiety medication. The current diagnosis: Post
traumatic stress disorder. Davy would begin counseling three days a week on
Monday morning.
  That weekend there would be a celebration, a belated party and barbecue to
honor Peter's birthday. He had requested that it be held off until Davy was
back on his feet, so he wouldn't be left out of the festivities. The bash was
set for two o'clock Saturday afternoon out on the beach, with many of their
fellow musicians and close friends invited. Tony and Mike were making pasta
salad, chili, baked beans and stuffed mushrooms. Micky would man the grill,
preparing chicken, hot dogs, shrimp skewers and BBQ ribs.
   Davy was in charge of snacks and drinks: Pretzels, mixed nuts, potato chips,
various soft drinks and a killer homemade punch. A chocolate sheet cake
decorated in orange and purple was ordered from the bakery that would be topped
with twenty-three candles.
   With all the preparations in order, everyone spent the rest of Friday
relaxing, each doing his own thing. Mike had tuned his guitar and was tinkering
with a tune he'd been working on. Peter was in his closet, trying to decide
what to wear to the party - a monumental task considering his array of
swimwear.
   Upstairs, Micky was examining some disgusting fungal formation with his
microscope. Having scraped it off the bottom of a rock he found along the
shoreline he declared it a new life form and was determined to prove it.
Bored and sporting a case of cabin fever Davy made a dash for the beach, the
sun, sand and surf luring him like the call of a mythical siren. Dressed in his
favorite red swim trunks he wandered along the breakers letting the tide wash
over his bare feet. He'd had a long swim, spending a good half-hour skipping
stones across the surface of the water. Next, the young Englishman found
himself tossing a beach ball with a group of small children, easily keeping
them entertained with his antics as well as his accent. Moving farther up the
beach Davy wandered among the stretch of shops that preceded the thoroughfare
leading to the boardwalk. Mostly antique dealers and whatnot shops, there were
a few scattered eateries and souvenir emporiums to entice the tourist trade.
   He stopped at the Snack Shack for a cold treat and a quick rest, getting in
the quickly growing line at the service window. In spite of the crowd the line
moved rather quickly, and soon he was next in line. A gum-chewing teenage girl
with blue hair and a piercing in every outcropping of her face was working at
the counter.
   "What can I get you?"
   "Erm I'd like a large cherry cola and a chocolate dipped frozen banana
please."
   "Total is six o four."
   He paid with a ten and by the time he had pocketed the change his order was
ready. Collecting his snack, he grabbed a handful of napkins. Turning to find
an empty table, he ran smack into the rather large leather-clad man in line
behind him, dousing him in icy cold coke.
   "Oh shit mistah I'm terribly sorry! He said, offering him a wad of napkins.
   "Why don't you look where the hell you're going asshole!"
   "Look man I didn't mean to do that - n I said I was sorry!"
   "You should get out of my space while I still feel like letting you, you
cock sucker - you and your little chocolate dick."
   "S'at right! Well 'ow bout you n me tak-"
   "There you are David, come on man we're gonna be late for our last class at
the martial arts center."
   Confused, Davy stood gaping at Ben Worthington.
   "Man what are you-"
   "Sensei Otsuko wouldn't be very happy with you if he knew you were using
your skills on the unsuspecting public again - do you want another court date?
Come on."
   Offering a ceremonial bow to the irate biker, Ben dragged Davy by the arm
towards his car as quickly as possible.
   "Rocket 'ave youlost your mind? What thef-"
   "Shut your mouth," he whispered loudly, "at least until we get out of here!"
   Once in Ben's Yugo - with the doors locked - he attempted to clear the air.
   "You see the emblem on the back of his jacket?"
   "Yaa, wha' about it?"
   "Damn man, you need to wise up to some shit! He's a member of the Santa Cruz
chapter of the Highwaymen motorcycle gang - the patch on his right shoulder
means he's been in for at least fifteen years - the one under it means he has
killedfor them! This is not a dude your little ass wants to get scrappy with!"
   "Bloody hell - let's get out of 'ere man!"
   Pulling away, Rocket glanced at the melting banana Davy still held by the
stick it was impaled on.
   "Dude seriously?"
   "Wha'?"
   "Well THAT looks right up your alley, nothing like advertising."
   The joy gone from his chocolatey snack, Davy tossed it out the window. A
sudden nervous agitation struck him, and in an instant, everything about the
pleasant afternoon changed drastically. A light sweat broke out on his skin,
though the air conditioner was blowing coldly. His breathing shifted to a light
pant, and his entire body began to quiver uncontrollably.
   "You okay Davy?" Ben asked, "You don't look so hot.
   "N-no, m'really not."
   "Relax man; we left dude way back there."
   "It's n-not that. I've been h-having some problems with p-panic attacks."
   Ben pulled over to the curb and parked the car. Turning to Davy, he gazed at
the pale young man with a shrewd eye.
   "I know that look. I'd bet a hundred bucks they cut you off from your pain
pills within the last week."
   "Yaa, M-Monday."
   "How long since you had one?"
   "About ten days I guess."
   "Okay, just breathe easy - through your nose, I know  what you need. We'll
have you fixed up in no time."
  Davy came home in a fabulous mood in plenty of time to shower and change
before dinner. His night to set the table he went cheerfully about his work,
even whistling and moving about the kitchen with a bouncy step.
Suspicious of his roommate’s behavior after a week of attitude and nastiness,
Mike made a pointed effort to make him laugh heartily. With no trace of liquor
on his breath, he backed off, not wanting to rock the boat.
    Gathered for supper everyone was pleased with but wary of the agreeable,
pleasant, sociable fellow that had reappeared among them, hoping his good-
natured spell was more than a temporary reprieve. Curious, Mike decided to test
the waters; he was sure he knew exactly how.
   "Hey Davy, been meaning to ask how your pickled pecker was coming along? And
why on earth didja let Micky off the hook?"
   "Pickled peckah," he laughed enthusiastically, "tha's funny Mike! Well my
mentholated manhood is doing fine, thank you very much. As far as Micky goes,
'e didn't get the heat treatment but 'e still got punished. Ahftah makin 'im
THINK I was gonna do it n lettin 'im freak out fer twenty minutes, I gave him
the coldest showah of 'is life!"
   "Yaa, me with my eyes closed expecting something else and he blasts me with
ice cold water. My dick disappeared and so did my nipples."
   As the laughter died down, Mike decided to push it one step further, just
for scientific purposes.
          (Micky would be so proud)
   "So Tiny, aside from being a soft-touch, does that make you the bitch in
y'alls relationship?"
   A tense second passed while everyone held their breath, waiting for an
explosion that never came.
   "I suppose since we're both running a stick shift, one of us has to open the
trunk, so it might as well be me. Besides, we cahn't all be a studly raging
Texas bull," he grinned.
   Opening his mouth and letting go of a genuine belly laugh, Michael Nesmith
was genuinely pleased and as a rare occurrence, caught off guard.
   The remainder of the evening went just as well, with easy conversation, good
humor and light-hearted fun. With a big day in front of them and a long day
behind him, Davy pled fatigue and begged off early.
   "M'sorry fellas, I've 'ad it. I'm gonna call it a night, turn in a little
early."
   Planting a long wet kiss on his beloved, he picked up his shoes and headed
for the stairs.
   "Night cookie, I'll see you soon."
   "Night Davy."
   "Good night you Tiny little dynamo."
   "Night guys!"
                                                                                
*
   Later that night, Micky rolled over into an empty spot where Davy would
normally be curled up asleep. Groping around in the dark, he realized the bed
was void of his miniature mate. Blindly he grabbed his cell phone, curious as
to the time: three forty-three am. Peeling back the covers he stepped out onto
the floor, turning toward the bathroom in search of his runaway Romeo - sure
enough, a telltale light cast a soft glow from beneath the closed door. Eager
to check on his welfare, Micky sleepily shuffled over and intending to peek
inside, gave the knob a turn.
           (That’s weird.. he never locks it)
   "Uh Dave?" He asked with a quick peck on the door, "can I come in there?"
   "Erm, one sec Micky."
   A long pause filled with muffled sounds from within dragged slowly by, as
Micky considered the million reasons why a locked door suddenly irritated him.
As he chastised himself for the third time for being so invasive, the lock
turned and Davy opened the door.
   "I sprayed the Lysol, but entah at yer own risk man," he teased.
   "I don't hafta go, I was trying to check on you! I wanted to make sure you
weren’t puking up your guts again."
   "Oh, no. Just all the cabbage I 'ad fer dinnah caught up with me. Heaven
goin' in; wicked bloody stuff coming out.”
   "Why did you lock the door?"
          (None of your beeswax, stop asking him nosy questions)
   "I didn't mean to, reflex I guess."
   "Oh. You coming back to bed?"
   "Yaa, though m'not really sleepy…"
   "Well I'm not gonna force you ya know."
   "Ya kinda missed the point there."
   "Huh? Oh.. OH."
   "Unless you'd rathah go back to sleep."
   "No no, no NO no. I like your plan much better, if you think you're.. um -
ready for that."
   "Why wouldn't I be?"
   "Because of my little screw-up …."
   "Oh no, lil Davy is perfect," he grinned, "Feeling like a million bucks and
ready fer anothah round!"
   "In that case, may I escort you both to the honeymoon suite?" he teased,
offering his arm.
   "We'd be delighted."
***** Chapter 6 *****
   At nine o'clock, the next morning Tony and the guys were all up, dressed and
fed, and slugging back the last of their second pot of coffee. As per the norm,
Mike was delegating the tasks that needed finishing before their guests would
arrive.
   "Micky you and Davy are in charge of decorations, start with inside the
house and hopefully by the time you get around to the outside party area, Tony
or I will be able to lend a hand."
   "Yes sir, sir rightawaysir!" Micky saluted in mock seriousness.
   "Tony I need you to help me set up folding chairs and food tables out back,
and we'll need an extra table for Peter's presents to go on."
   "No problem."
   "Davy, I'm counting on you to make sure all the foam plates, plasticware,
party cups and napkins are out there by one-thirty, but cover them with sumthin
so they don't blow away!"
   "Or get bird crap on em," Micky pointed out.
   "Micky, I'm gonna need you and Tony to help me get the amps and stuff
outside and hooked up so we can play later on. We gotta make sure nobody is
gonna trip on the wires though."
   "At five till two all the food needs to be taken outside and put where it
belongs, except for the chili which I'll bring out when it's almost time to
eat."
   "What can I do Michael?"
   "Peter, this is your party babe. You get to sit around looking gorgeous."
   "Hey Mike, when do you want me to set out the ice buckets and the cake?"
   "I think I'm gonna leave the cake inside on the kitchen table Tiny, and
don't take the iced drinks or the punch outside until two o'clock."
   "Okay."
   "Alright everyone, let's get cracking."
   "I'll be right back," Davy said, moving toward the stairs, "need to brush my
teeth."
   "I'll get started babe, I can blow up balloons while you do that."
   "Oh! Oh! Can I help with that? Please Michael, I love blowing up balloons!"
   "If it means so much to ya Cotton of course you can."
   "Yippee!"

   By one-fifteen everything was ready and in place except for the food. All
five men sat exhausted in the boy’s living room, attempting to catch their
second wind before the party when there was a knock at the front door.
   "I'll get it!" Peter called excitedly.
   "Sit down shotgun!" Mike instructed, "Davy, get the door."
   "Why me?" He asked, getting to his feet, "Do I look like a doorman to yer?"
   Expecting an early party guest he paused at the mirror, making sure every
hair was in place. Sweeping the door open with a grand and welcoming gesture,
he was nearly bowled over when he saw who it was.
   "Nicky!"
   "Hey-ey! Little Bro!"
   The two grabbed each other in a bear hug, happy to see each other after so
long.
   "Nobody told me you were coming today!"
   "Only Mike and Tony knew, and I asked them not to tell anyone. You look a
far sight better than the last time I saw you bubba, how are you?"
   "I'm doin alright! How's school going?"
   "Very well actually, I got my first quarter evaluation yesterday - I'm in
the top two percent of the entire class!"
   "That's ALL? I figured you fer valedictorian!"
   "Well, I would've been the number two student, but.. I sorta got a demerit
two weeks ago."
   "Nicky?" Tony scolded, "What did you do?"
   "I had a bit of a row with one of my professors. The disagreement itself
wouldn't have cost me anything, but he sort of left early: Wearing my Bolognese
sauce."
   "Nicholas!"
   "I'm sorry, he insulted my mother!"
   "Wha'd 'e say?" Davy asked angrily.
   "I'm sorry Nicky! What happened?"
   "He said I had no business in the culinary arts and that clearly my mother
was a terrible cook who probably burned a pot of water making tea."
   "Yaa well good thing I wasn't there else 'ed have took 'ome a busted lip
too! Manchester kiss I'd have given 'im!"
   "Dean Richards gave me three demerits but Professor Glock was suspended for
a week. Turns out he's been doing a lot of this type of thing lately, one more
incident and he'll be terminated."
   "Did you really pour a pot of Bolognese sauce over him?" Micky asked.
   "Right off the stovetop. Good thing our uniforms are so thick, though most
of it pooled in his front pocket."
   "What was the argument about in the first place?"
   "He was ticked off Mike because I had added nutmeg to my sauce, like Tony
taught me a long time ago. All of my fellow classmates were raving about it and
he accused me of trying to show him up."
   "How old is he Nicky?"
   "Mmm, as a guess I'd say late sixties, early seventies. Definitely our
oldest instructor."
   "Almost sounds like early to moderate stage dementia. Try to go easy on him
okay mi amore?"
   "Yessir, I'll do my best."
   "So 'ow long are you staying Bubba?"
   "Ah, unfortunately I have to take the last train back to the city tonight; I
have a critical exam on Monday morning that I have to finish preparing for."
   "That blows!"
   "I have a two week vacation coming up in June; I'll be here the entire time,
I promise."
   "I understand, I just really miss you. Yer 'ere now though, s'come on - you
can 'elp me haul all this food out back!"

   Finally, the party was in full swing. Peter was beside himself with
excitement, as the friends poured in and the gifts piled up. Micky fired up the
grill and soon the aroma of cooking meat was drifting down the beach.
   Among the partygoers were several local bands that were friendly competitors
of the boys in the job market. Off the grid, they were all simply performers
with a common love for playing music. With so much talent gathered in one
place, the party had a festive atmosphere filled with music of all sorts, from
jazz and blues to rock and country, folk tunes, golden oldies and plenty of
dance music. Onlookers up the beach even danced in the distance to the fabulous
array of sounds.
   A game of volleyball was going off to one side, guys vs. girls. Although the
men were as a rule more athletic, fearful of injuring their female opponents
they played a delicate game - effectively costing them the victory. The food
was a great success all around, right down to the last bowl of chili.
Fortunately, Tony had covered Micky on the grill long enough for him to grab a
plate of food before everything had disappeared. At four-thirty, Mike and Micky
carefully brought the cake out to the beach, placing it on one of the now-empty
food tables. Gathering everyone together, they lit the candles and everyone
joined in song.
        "Happy Birthday to you…”
   "Man," Micky whispered to Tony, "Where's Davy? He should be here for this."
   "I don't know, I saw him walking to the house about ten minutes ago."
   "Should I go check on him?"
        "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR PETER…”
   "At least wait until Peter cuts the cake, it'll break his heart if you both
disappear."
   "Make a wish Peter!" Somebody called from the crowd.
   Closing his eyes tightly, Peter made his special birthday wish. Then with
all the breath he could suck in blew out every candle on his cake.
   "Alright! Way to go Petah!" Davy cheered, stepping up beside Micky.
   "Where were you," Micky nearly hissed, "You practically missed the whole
thing?"
   "M'sorry, nature call."
   "You have white stuff all over the end of your nose, what'd you do - bury it
in lime?"
   Quickly wiping his nose with the back of his hand, Davy looked a bit
flustered.
   "I erm grabbed the lahst powdered doughnut. Is it all gone?"
   "Yaa you got it. All that food, a doughnut and now cake? Where do you put it
all?"
   "Hollow leg," Davy winked, patting his left thigh.
   "Tiny!Micky!" Mike called in his don't-dare-ignore-me voice, "Will y'all
PLEASE help me pass out the cake!"
   "Coming Mike."
   "Right guv'nah!"
   "Well now THERE'S a word I haven't heard since God was a boy!" Nicky
grinned.
   "I wonder sometimes what you would sound like if you still had a more
pronounced British accent like your brother does."
   "I did for a long time Tony, but the folks forced me to 'speak proper', so
by the time you came along they had half brainwashed half beat it out of my
head. Sounded basically just like Davy."
   "I'm sorry Nicky, if only I'd gotten to you sooner."
   "Stop, you saved my life! Anyhow it's all behind me. I do wish sometimes I
still had the accent though, might help me get a damn date."
   "Your time will come kiddo, and maybe someday mine will too."
   "I know how badly you wanted Davy, but all things considered I'm sort of
glad it didn't work out. I don't think I could handle having my little brother
as a step mother."
   "Go get us some cake, you big goofball."
  Around six-thirty the last of the guests had left the party and the house was
somewhat back to normal. The family was lounging about on the sofas chatting a
bit as Peter tore through the massive pile of cards and presents.
   "Are you kidding me," Tony said with a laugh, "those two go at it more than
a colony of rabbits!"
   "Its 'im ya know," Davy grinned, throwing a thumb in the direction of his
curly-headed lover, "the guy has an insatiable appetite in bed!
   "Man I'm telling you, it's hard as heck being in a school that's primarily
men and not hooking up with anybody. I've got so much pent up sexual energy, I
could fuel the next space shuttle to mars with it."
   "What time is yer train Nicky?"
   "Nine o'clock, why?"
   "Oh well, you've got plenty of time. 'Ere now, I'll letcha borrow Micky fer
a couple of hours."
   "Say WHAT?"
   "I beg your pardon?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.
   "Funny Davy," Nicky smirked, "that's really cute."
   "Wha'? I'm not jokin'! You'd do tha' fer me wouldn't ya Micky?"
   "I um.. that is.. "
   "Oh come on, the guys 'urtin over there."
   "I'm not sure this is a good idea," Tony interrupted.
   "I'm not going to borrow your boyfriend."
   "Why not?" Micky whined, sounding a bit rejected.
   "There ya see, 'es willing! Nobody says you've gotta go drop yer pole, just
let Micky bait yer hook. Right good at it he is."
   "You want me to go upstairs and get - I'm not sure exactly what - from
Micky. You'd be perfectly okay with that?"
   "Sure, why not. I trust you both, it's a one time thing n you'll go back to
school a very 'appy guy."
   "Does he do this kind of thing often?"
   "First time its ever come up," Micky smiled sheepishly.
   "And you would do this?"
   "Well, if you both want me to, then yaa I suppose so."
   "What's been going on around here since I left? You people have corrupted my
little brother!"
   Everyone turned to look at Nicky, a guilty silence passing between the four
roommates.
   "What took you so long?" He smiled broadly.
   "So is that a yes?" Davy asked through broken laughter.
   Glancing at Tony to gauge his true opinion, Nicky saw only annoyed
amusement. Not wanting to be the heavy, Tony simply shrugged his shoulders.
   "If you're both sure?"
   Davy exchanged a questioning look with Micky.
   "This is your call little one, I'll go along with whatever you say."
   "Then take him up there and rock his world."
   Wordlessly they stood, and with Micky leading the way, they climbed the
spiral staircase without a glance behind them. When the door closed, Davy
stretched out on the love seat, a prideful grin on his face.
   "Unbelievable," Tony said.
   "Tiny," Mike said, his hands clasped behind his head, "I underestimated you.
You're not the bitch in this relationship by any means."
   "What made you change yer mind?"
   "Cuz unless I'm mistaken, I do believe you just pimped Micky out to your
brother. That would give you the biggest pair of balls this side of Houston
son!"
   A face-splitting smile plastered to his mug Davy crossed his legs, resting
his head on his right arm."
   "Tha's right babe."
  Locked in the bedroom with Micky, Nicky developed a slight case of cold feet.
Eyeing the distance to both exits and the bathroom door, he stood by the desk
watching nervously as Micky shed his shirt and shoes. Sprawled on the bed on
his left side, one knee bent, head resting in the palm of his hand, Micky
looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.
   "You can come over here Nicky; just sit by me for a minute."
   "You know, I think I'm good for the moment, but thanks."
   "You don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he said sitting up,
"but it's really okay if you do. Davy would not have made an offer if he wasn't
sure. Either way, just sit down and talk to me."
   Forcing his legs into action Nicky managed to cross the brief space, and
found himself sitting in dangerously close proximity to his brother's
boyfriend. A warm hand lightly stroking his back sent a delightful shiver up
his spine.
   "That okay?"
   "Feels nice. Look Micky, I appreciate the gesture on both of your counts,
but the last thing my ego needs is pity sex. Thanks anyway."
   Dipping his head slightly Micky chuckled softly.
   "Who said anything about pity? You're as good looking as Davy, charming and
easy to be around - this is a treat for me."
   "Really?"
   "Heck yaa," Micky enthused, as his hand traced its way southward towards
this other British backside.
   "I mean we don't hafta, ya know, fuck, but I'd sure as hell like to watch
you come undone. Love to be the reason."
   Suddenly very warm, Nicky realized that Micky's shirtless body was pressed
against him, his hands moving beneath his t-shirt, raising it slowly toward his
head.
   "Anytime you want me to stop Nicky," he breathed, "I will."
   Soft kisses on his neck sent electricity along his frame, as Micky's nimble
fingers explored the firm lines of his torso. A throaty groan issued from him
as warm lips teased across a perky nipple. Succumbing to the sensual
ministrations Nicky lay back on the bed, surrendering to Micky's insistent
touch as he reached for the button on his jeans.
   Trembling, he closed his eyes. Raising his limber hips, he allowed Micky to
remove his clothes, shivering as the cool air embraced his erection. Strong
hands caressed him, stroking his pelvis as feathery kisses tingled along his
sensitive inner thigh. Moans of approval from above urging him on, Micky
positioned himself above the pulsing shaft aching to be ravaged, his hot breath
a precursor of the warm lips ready to please and devour.
   Teasingly, he suckled each hardened testicle, cradling it on his silky
tongue. Trailing open-mouthed kisses, he worked his way to the sticky head,
licking and sucking the salty flesh with amazing skill. Pausing only a moment
to swirl his tongue around the tip he wrapped his lips around Nicky's cock and
swallowed him to the hilt. Convulsing with sheer pleasure Nicky arched his
back, a guttural groan issuing from deep within him. Eager fingers wound into
Micky's tumble of curls, urging him into a steady rhythm. On hands and knees,
Micky bore down on him at a frenzied pace, sucking and licking, his mouth a hot
blur. Pinning his hands at his sides, Micky assumed full control, the younger
man writhing beneath him utterly delirious with pleasure.
   "Oh God - SO close-" Nicky moaned.
   With a final burst of energy, Micky sucked the head of Nicky's trigger-ready
cock with cruel abandon. With a strangled cry from his captive lover, hot jets
of Nicky's nectar spewed into Micky's throat. Taking him deeper, he milked his
body of every drop, driving the youth beyond his physical limits.
   "PLEASE GOD - LET ME STOP! I'm BEGGING you, no more!"
   His hands released, Nicky scrambled away. Curling into a quivering ball he
lay on his side, whimpering with ecstasy.
   "Are you okay?"
   "I'm perfect. Just need a moment."
   "I'll leave a clean towel in the bathroom if you wanna freshen up. I'll see
you downstairs Nicky."
   "Mmhmm."

   Twenty minutes later, showered and looking like a new man, Nicky came
traipsing down the steps. Tony was out with the boys on the back patio watching
the sun dip into the Pacific.
   "Feel better?" Tony asked with a quirky grin.
   "Very much so thank you," he reddened, "where's Davy?"
   "Big day, musta been too much for him," Mike said, "He done passed out on
the couch."
   "Well I'm going to wake his little ass up, I have to get going."
   "Let me do it," Micky volunteered, "he can be really cranky when he doesn't
get his nap out."
   "Whatever you say chief."
   Leaning over the snoozing man, Micky placed a tender kiss on his little
sleeping beauty. Then another. Thickly lashed eyelids fluttered open and honey-
brown eyes stared up at him innocently.
   "Hi there."
   "Hi."
   "Sorry to disturb your nap but Nicky is getting ready to leave and he wanted
to say goodbye."
   "Oh, okay."
   "I'll leave you guys to it, I'll be out back little one."
   "So it's that time already is it?"
   "Yes, I've got about five minutes."
   "Damn. Goes by too fahst. So what part of June?"
   "Third week, I'll be yours the whole time."
   "Cool, we'll get some surfing in then."
   "Sounds excellent. I have to get moving, but I wanted to thank you for the
wild little favor, I totally needed that. You're a trip sometimes but you're an
awesome brother."
   "Erm.. yer welcome. What favor?"
   "Wow you are hard to wake up," he laughed, "you know, Micky?"
   "I've no idea what yer talking about."
   "Davy don't play with my head like this, you know what I'm referring to."
   "Umm, I really don't."
   "Okay now I'm sufficiently freaked out. Come on bubba - me, Micky -
upstairs?"
   "Wait a minit - you - andMICKY!"
   "Davy it was your idea!"
   "Yer jerkin me chain."
   "Tony!" Nicky yelled, "I need you!"
   Led by Tony all four men came bustling through the bay doors, concerned and
anxious to see what was wrong.
   "What's the matter Nicky?"
   "Small problem."
   "What is it?"
   "Davy insists he doesn't remember the little.. favor.. he did for me."
   "Shit. THAT'S a problem." Micky said.
   "Fine; Big problem.”
   "Kiddo you honestly don't remember that conversation? We were all sitting
together when it took place!"
   "I erm.. of course I remember, I was just.. messing with Nicky."
   "Oh jeez, you scared me to death! Here I am thinking I'd made it with your
boyfriend and you didn't actually give me the go-ahead!"
   "You - yaa. You, and my Micky. I mean boyfriend - MINE. Good thing.. my
idea."
   "Kiddo are you okay?"
   "M'fine. Great even. Just not.. awake."
   "You sure bubba?"
   "Yaa, need some coffee. So.. 'ow was it?"
   "Uh.. well. You definitely picked yourself a winner."
   "Tony are you driving him to the station?"
   "No, I've already called a cab."
   "Oh, was gonna ride along."
   "Davy, are you regretting the decision you made? With me and Micky? I don't
want this to come between us."
   "NOTHING will evah come between us understand me? No regrets Nicky, I trust
you both."
   "I love you too lil bro."
   "Cabs out front." Mike called.
   "Walk me out?"
   "You betcha."
   "See you next time everybody!"
   "Be good Nicky."
   "Bye Nicky, thanks for coming to my party."
   "See ya sport."
   "See ya shotgun."
   When Nicky was gone, Davy came inside and went straight to his room. Three
sets of eyes turned to Micky - with sympathy, panic and snide humor.
   Sighing heavily Micky came to his feet.
   "Guess I better go see what's going on."
   "Considering all that's been happening with him lately, I'll stick around
just in case you need me for anything."
   "Thanks Tone, do you by any chance have the funeral home on speed dial? Cuz
I think he's gonna kill me."
   "Good luck shotgun."

   Easing the door open Micky slipped into the room quietly to find Davy
sitting on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest.
   "Can I come in, talk to you?"
   "Course you can."
   He sat beside the forlorn young man, shoulder to shoulder.
   "Be honest with me. You really don't remember, do you?"
   "Strictly between us? No, I don't. The lahst I really remember is being at
the pahrty passing out cake."
   "Are you alright? Did you like black-out or something?"
   "Something," he mumbled.
   "Are you pissed at me little one?"
   "Wouldn't rightly be fair now would it? I mean s'not like you two went off
behind my back."
   "Cookie, if I'd had any idea that you didn't know what you were doing …"
   "Itisn't yer fault!"
   "Shit."
   "Micky?"
   "Yaa?"
   "What did you… Did you two, erm…”
   "I didn't fuck him Davy."
   A relieved nod.
    "He didn't fuck me either, we didn't evenkiss."
   "You didn't? Really?"
   "Davy I gotta admit I was a little floored when you volunteered me to fix
Nicky's.. situation. But you made it sound so casual, like 'ho um just helping
out a friend' - and when you said you trusted us, that it'd be a one-time bit..
it didn't feel so weird."
   "So, what did 'appen?"
   Blushing deeply Micky took a sudden interest in the blanket bunched up at
his knees.
   "Oh. Umm.. oh. I guess I sorta like.. sucked him off."
   "Oh. Micky?"
   "Yaa?"
   "You didn't.. use the thing on 'im - did you?”
   "What? No! That's a special thing, just for my little one!"
   "Yaa?" Davy grinned.
   "Absolutely."
   "Hey Micky?"
   "Yaa babe?"
   "Next time, can yer just give 'im a hand job n be done with it?"
   "Sure if tha's wha-WHATTA YOU MEAN NEXT TIME?"
   "Just sayin', if I evah send 'im to you again - 'ands only."
   "Davy, you're weird."
   "I love you too."

   On arriving back on campus, Nicky could not shake the nagging feeling that
things needed to be said between him and Davy. Taking a deep breath, he picked
up the phone.
   "Ello?"
   "Hey bubba, did I wake you?"
   "Are ya kidding, that nap screwed me up, I'll be awake till the cows come
'ome."
   "Listen Davy, I had to call and talk to you, I wasn't comfortable with the
way things felt when I left - the whole Micky thing?"
   "Everything is fine Nicky. I was so far out of it when I woke up I wasn't
thinking clearly. But yes, I remember everything - and no there'snot a
problem."
   "I hope so. Davy I'd cut my own hand off before I'd ever do anything to hurt
you, you know that don't you?"
   "I do bubba, and there's no one else in theworld I'd trust with Micky.
Really, I wanted 'im to fix you up. How was it by the way?"
   "Well, now that it's just us - if I ever need a vehicle suck-started, I know
who to call."
The fit of hysterical laughter on the other end of the phone assured Nicky that
indeed, all was good between the Jones boys.
***** Chapter 7 *****
   Over the next week, all seemed well with Davy - aside from the fact that he
was sleeping much more than usual. Dr. Scott attributed this to the anti-
anxiety medication and relieved, everyone dismissed their concerns.
       Everyone that is except Mike.
   He had a nagging feeling that Davy was hiding something. He'd caught him
sneaking in the bay doors late Wednesday night, and though he had explained it
away as a simple late-night walk on the beach, his nervous demeanor told the
shrewd Texan otherwise.
   Thursday afternoon he came downstairs disheveled and looking cross. Heading
straight for the coffee pot he suddenly lost it, when he found it cold and
empty.
   "Bloody fucking hell!" He raged, pounding his fist on the countertop.
   Looking up from the newspaper, Mike watched warily as he fumed about in the
tiny kitchen.
   "Would you like me to make some more coffee Davy?" Peter asked softly.
   "If ya cahn't fucking 'ave coffee made when people get outta bed don't
bloody bother offering when it's too friggin late!"
   "I'm sorry."
   "Now wait just a cotton pickin minute," Mike said angrily, "he didn't hafta
offer you a goddamn thing you ungrateful spoiled little prick! Apologize!"
   "I will not!"
   "You will or I'll come over there and teach you how by God!"
   "Fuck you Mike!"
   "Davy!" Tony shouted, standing in the doorway.
   "Tony you better get hold of that mouthy little shit before I do!" Mike
seethed, now on his feet.
   "What the hell is going on?"
   "Hotshot ovah there thinks he can tell me what to do!"
   "He comes down outta bed at one o'clock expecting us to have coffee on for
his lazy ass, cussin n pounding his fist cuz there wuddunt any. Peter here
offers very nicely to make him some and the little asshole cussed him cuz it
wasn't already made! So I told him to apologize!'
   "Davy?"
   "Wha'?"
   "Is that how it went?"
   "So fucking what if it is! I get sick of coming downstairs to an empty
coffee pot - regardless of what time I get up it's always the same!"
   "Apologize to Peter Davy."
   "Screw that."
   "Apologize to him or there will be consequences."
   "Screw you n yer bloody consequences!"
   "Go upstairs to your room - stay there until I come to see you. Go now!”
   "I want some breakfast."
   "Tough. Upstairs."
   "M'not a child."
   "You keep actin' like one," Mike stepped forward, "I'm by God gonna turn
your rotten ass over my knee and TREAT you like one!"
   "David Thomas UP!"
   "Kiss me arse, all of yers," he spouted, stomping up the steps.
   As he slammed the bedroom door, the mirror slid off the living room wall,
shattering on the floor.
   "I'm telling you, one of these days - right over my dadblamed knee!"
   "Peter, I'm so sorry he treated you that way, please accept my apology."
   "It's not your fault Tony, it's not even Davy's fault really. We all know
that something isn't right with him right now. I know that deep down inside, he
would never be that way to me."
   "Cotton you're a lot more forgiving than I am," Mike admitted, "I love you
for it. But if I ever have a chance I'm gonna tear that ass-end up!"
   "I don't understand why now, he's been doing great all this time and then
BLAM; has anything happened that I've missed? Any arguments or anything?"
   "Not a dadgum theng. Been sweet as sody-pop."
   "I'll have to talk to Micky, see how he's sleeping - nightmares and such.
Where is Micky?"
   "He went to the market; it’s his turn to cook."
   "Petah?"
   They turned to see Davy at the bottom of the steps, tears coursing down his
cheeks.
   "Petah I'm soso sorry, I dunno what came ovah me. Please Petah, ya don't
hafta forgive me but please accept my apology."
   "Of course I do Davy, and I do forgive you. I know you didn't mean to say
those things."
   "Tony, m'not trying to disobey you, I'll go back to my room and stay there.
I just 'ad to tell you 'ow sorry I am. You've done so much fer me, I shouldn't
talk to you li'e that."
   "Alright kiddo, it's going to be okay. It's very big of you to come admit
that you were wrong."
   "Mike, I know you're angry with me, n I don't blame you one bit. If you
wanna come hit me, I.. I won't move - I'll take my medicine like a man. I'm
sorry I disrespected you again and so sorry for treating Petah the way I did.
Please Mike, please accept my apology."
   Hands on his hips Mike was still fuming. Eyes blazing he walked slowly to
stand before the little Englishman he so desperately wanted to pulverize.
Bracing himself for a punch in the mouth, Davy stood trembling, yet bravely
facing the mountainous Texan looming over him. His left hand snaking around the
back of the younger man's neck, Mike snatched him forward, bringing them nose
to nose. Speaking in a deep whisper, he was more frightening than had he been
shouting.
   "I'm not a patient man Tiny but I happen to care about you. So I'm gonna let
you slide just one more time. If you ever speak to me like-at again I WILL beat
you down. If you even LOOK like you're considering thinking about the
possibility of talkin to PETER that way again - I will make you wish you'd
never set foot on US soil. Understand me?"
   Too tongue-tied to speak, Davy nodded vigorously, a runner of sweat
trickling down his face.
   "Alright then," Mike smiled, "come here Tiny."
   He pulled him into a tight embrace, both of his long arms wrapping all the
way around the thin body. Clapping him firmly on the back, he released him,
giving a gentle push in the direction of the stairs.
   "Up with ya before I take my belt to your ass!"
   "I'll be there shortly kiddo to talk about this."
   "Yessir," Davy said, and headed up the steps.
   "Thank you Michael," Peter said, an adoring smile on his upturned face.
   "Well shotgun I know you don't like violence."
   "Man that grocery store was jam-packed," Micky breezed in breathlessly, arms
laden with paper sacks, "I thought I'd NEVER get outta there! Talk about a
madhouse, you guys have no idea the insanity you missed!"
   Glancing at each other the three men burst into ironic laughter.
   "What's so funny?" Micky asked, emptying the bags.
   "Trust me," Tony said, "you don't want to know!"
   "Okay. Say has anyone checked on Davy? I figured he'd be up by now."
   Another burst of riotous laughter met his ears. Confused, he looked from one
to the other of his friends.
   "You're probably right," he said, shaking his head, "I really don't wanna
know."
                                                                              
       *
   Once calm enough, Tony climbed the stairs and knocked on Davy's bedroom
door. Aware of what lay ahead of him, Davy sighed, inviting him in.
   "Well you're just knocking them out of the park today aren't you kiddo?"
   "Some days I wanna glue my mouth shut before I come downstairs."
   "The idea has merit. So what happened?"
   "I dunno really, I wasn't even angry with anyone."
   "Something had to have set you off Davy; you've never spoken to me like
that. To make matters worse you practically bit poor Peter in half for offering
to do you a favor. So, what is it that you're not telling me?"
   "N-nightmares," he lied, "m'not sleeping well because of it. No excuses,
just.. letting you know."
   "Is that why you were walking the beach at three-thirty this morning?"
   "Bloody Mike! He said he wouldn't say anythin'."
   "He didn't. I saw you from my upstairs bedroom window."
   "I had a bad dream n couldn't get back to sleep, so I went fer a walk."
   "Anything you want to talk to me about?"
   "No sir, not right now anyway."
   "That's okay kiddo, but I recommend you bring it up tomorrow at therapy."
   "I will."
   "Meanwhile."
   "Oh boy …"
   "You saved yourself an ass-whipping by coming down of your own accord to
apologize. I do however feel that you need to make amends. So, in lieu of
disciplining you, I'm leaving it to you to find a way to make it up to Mike and
Peter. I expect you'll have a solution for me by dinner time."
   "Yessir.. Tony?"
   "Yes Davy?"
   "I nevah meant to be s'much trouble fer you. I'm sorry."
   "Kiddo all young men are a peck of trouble - or more - not all are as worth
it as you. I'll see you at dinner."
                                                                              
       *
   When Micky rang the proverbial dinner bell, Davy didn't come down to eat.
Certain that he knew why, Tony went up to fetch him himself.
   "Davy?" He called, knocking on the door, "come down for supper kiddo."
   "M'not very hungry."
   "I'm coming in okay?"
   "Suit yerself."
   "You haven't eaten anything today, you must be hungry. So how about the
truth."
   "I.. I don't 'ave a solution fer Mike and Petah. So I figured I shouldn't
come down to dinnah."
   "A reasonable attempt at self-discipline, but denying yourself a meal is not
the answer Davy. Come, have some dinner with us. I'm sure we can put our heads
together and find a decent arrangement."
   "Yer not angry?"
   "No. I'm sure you gave it a good deal of thought. Come on, Micky made
meatball parmesan, one of your favorites."
   "All right, just lemme wash me 'ands."
   "I'll be at the table."
   "Is he coming downstairs?" Micky asked as Tony returned to the kitchen.
   "He'll be here in a few minutes. Listen, I had told him earlier today that
he had to come up with a way to make amends to you two for his behavior this
afternoon. So far he's got nothing - so maybe when we get dinner under way,
I'll bring it up and the two of you can offer some interesting suggestions,
something that'll flip his lid a little, just to get his creative juices
flowing."
   "I'll try and think of something," Peter grinned.
   "Man I love the malicious way your mind works sometimes," Mike laughed, "You
can count on me!"
   Moments later, Davy came trotting downstairs.
   "Sorry fer 'oldin everyone up, you guys should've stahrted without me!"
   "It’s alright little one, it's still piping hot. I'm just glad you're having
dinner with me."
   "It smells wonderful!"
   "Looks amazing as well, is that a mozzarella-asiago blend?"
   "Provolone too, with extra garlic. Salad Tony?"
   "Absolutely, thank you! Rolls kiddo?"
   "Yes, thanks. Petah didja want the parmesan cheese?"
   "I've got some already, but could I please have the salt and pepper?"
   "Sure, 'ere ya go."
   "Micky this is outstanding, I believe you've outdone yourself shotgun!"
   "Thanks Mike, could ya pass me the ranch? OH - I almost forgot - I picked up
some GREAT espresso coffee for after dinner, it'll go perfect with the
tiramisu!"
   An awkward quiet fell over the table. Micky looked around, slightly
bewildered.
   "Was it something I said?"
   "Can we talk about anythin' but coffee?" Davy asked weakly.
   "Ah yes," Tony spoke up, "that reminds me. Peter, Mike - Davy is having some
difficulty thinking of what he can do for each of you as a means of atonement
for what happened between you today. Perhaps the two of you can suggest
something?"
   "Erm.. Tony?" Davy said nervously.
   "Why I'd be more n happy to help ol Tiny out of a spot, I'm sure I can think
of sumthin he can do," Mike smiled.
   "Say, Tony-" Davy tried to interrupt.
   "I know there's something I'd love for Davy to do for me," Peter spoke with
a mischievous smile.
   "Cotton I think we're on the same wavelength," Mike smiled broadly.
   "TONY!" Davy blurted, a bundle of jangled nerves.
   "Yes kiddo?"
   "Yer not seriously gonna leave me at the mercy of Hitler and Company 'ere
are you?"
   "Well in all fairness Davy, since you didn't meet the deadline I gave you it
makes sense that the people you hurt should decide what your atonement should
be, don't you think?"
   "I'd rathah take my chances with the firing squad."
   "I think Tiny should wait hand and foot on Peter for twenty-four hours,
doing whatever he tells him to do."
   "Michael that's a great idea!"
   "Now wai' a minit-"
   "Good, good! What about you Mike?"
   "Well Tony what I have in mind for me is a little more private and a lot too
personal to talk about at the supper table."
   "Micky!"
   "What?" He answered, mouth full of meatballs.
   "Are you evenlistening to this?"
   ".. Yaa, Why?"
   "Mike's talkin 'bout 'avin 'is way with me - I know it - aren't you gonna
say anythin'?"
   "Oh, yes. Be careful Mike, he's got a sharp tooth on the top left."
   "MICKY!"
   "What, is it the right?"
   "Are you all HIGH?" Davy cried, jumping up from his seat.
   "Okay kiddo calm down," Tony interrupted, laughing heartily, "it was all
just a little joke. I set this up with them before you came down to dinner."
   At the far end of the table, Mike was in tears from holding back the
laughter that was now rolling out in knee slaps and guffaws.
   "Tha's not funny," Davy said, even as the corners of his mouth turned up in
a grin, "tha's a terrible thing to do to a person!"
   "I'm sorry Davy," Tony laughed, "I would've stopped it sooner, but the look
on your face kept getting more and more PRICELESS by the second!"
   "I thought you'd all been smoking grass while I was up in me room - bloomin
baked yer brains or something!"
   "Have mercy that was fun; that was better n if I could have my way with
you!”
   "Depends on who you ahsk I suppose, but you scared the British outta me!"
   "Does this mean I don't have a slave for a day?"
   "Sorry Petah, fraid so."
   "Actually," Tony said, rubbing his chin, "I have an idea."
   "Oh no, 'ere we go."
   "Davy, one day in the next week, I think you should do all of Mike's chores
- housework, shopping, cooking - whatever he's responsible for on the day of
his choosing. The same for Peter - so in essence, you'd be 'slave for a day'
but nothing out of line or humiliating, and you won't be taking orders as it
were."
   "I like the sound of that idear."
   "Peter?"
   "I guess so."
   "What do you say kiddo, are you man enough to step up to the challenge?"
   "Yessir, I can do that. I owe them that much n perhaps a little more."
   "Good," Micky said, "now that all that's settled, who wants tiramisu and
um.. hot black caffeinated liquid?"
                                                                                     
*
   Friday morning Davy was moving slow and in another lousy mood. In a stroke
of genius, Tony brought him a large travel mug of fresh coffee when he came to
take him to his appointments. The conversation during the ride to town was
terse and fairly one-sided.
   "Another rough night Davy?"
   "Mmm."
   "Nightmare?"
   "No."
   "Trouble sleeping then."
   "Yaa."
   "Are you feeling unwell?"
   "M'fine."
   "Maybe too much espresso last night? Was good though wasn't it?"
   "S'alright."
   "Are you going to talk to Dr. Scott about the nightmares?"
   "Just 'ow much coffee 'ave you 'ad Tony?"
   "My usual two cups, why?"
   "You could talk the ears off a fence post this morning."
   "Just making conversation. I was curious, did you-"
   "Oh look - we're here.. Thank God."
   Davy was on the pavement before the car had even stopped moving. Irritated,
he was eager to get inside and start the day's workout. Already waiting for
him, Amy took him back right away, putting him on the rowing machine with a
twenty-minute timer. Back up front, she asked Tony into her private office.
   "Good morning, how are you?"
   "Fine thanks, and you?"
   "Very good, thanks. I wanted to speak to you about David, tell me - are any
unusual things going on at home?"
   "Depends on what you consider unusual. Mind if I ask you why?"
   "Certainly not, and feel free to tell me to mind my own business. I've
noticed some changes Mr. Martinelli, that are all too familiar to me. From
experience with a close family member and some things I've picked up on with
David - I have to ask - is there any chance he may be using drugs?"
   "… What kind of things?"
  At ten o'clock sharp, Paul Scott called Tony into his office for their
customary pre-session meeting. They dispensed quickly with the formalities of
catching up and cut straight to business, as Tony indicated he had an urgent
concern.
   "… So I'm wondering if we need to look in a different direction for the
source of the problem."
   "Interesting. Tell you what, I was planning to do a standard blood level
draw today on Davy to track his medication, I'll order a tox-screen as well
when I submit it to the lab."
   "He's going to be very upset, especially if we're barking up the wrong
tree."
   "He signed paperwork in the beginning agreeing to random drug testing, all
of my patients have to. No need to even mention it to him unless he tests
positive."
   "How soon will you have the results?"
   "Could be this afternoon; may not be until Monday. “
   "Well then, I'll be waiting to hear from you."
   "Send David in now, would you?"
   "Sure thing."
   Out in the lobby Davy was on the phone, talking in animated but hushed
tones. Tony's reflection in the plate glass window caught his attention,
promptly ending the conversation.
   "You're up slugger," Tony said, "Doc's all done picking my brain for today."
   Nodding, he tapped on the office door and let himself inside.
   "Ah, good morning Davy."
   "Morning Dr. Scott."
   "Still stuck on the formalities eh? I thought by now you'd be more
comfortable with me."
   "Yessir - that is I am. It's more about respect than anythin', s'just the
way I was taught ya see. M'not really used to addressing authority on a first
name basis."
   "Duly noted, but it's important for a healthy doctor-patient relationship to
have a certain amount of intimacy, familiarity. Not rushing you mind you, but
it helps build a level of trust and confidence."
   "I'll work on it, its nearly twenty years of yes ma'am and no sir n thank
you Dr. so-and-so.. some things are 'arder to get away from."
   "So how are things going at home?"
   Immediately glancing at his knees, Davy was distracted, avoiding the
doctor’s gaze as he considered his answer.
   "Uh oh, that's not a good look," he chuckled, "what happened kiddo?"
   "In a nutshell I opened my mouth."
   "How bout cracking that shell a little bit."
   "I woke up yesterday as my alter-ego, super jerk. Made a huge mess of things
with Mike n Petah, cussed at Tony and almost had a long Texas leg shoved so far
up my backside I could've polished his boot with my tongue."
   "Ouch, sounds like you ate your Wheaties yesterday."
   "Shit," Davy grinned, "I managed to pull all this off BEFORE breakfast!"
   "Are you taking the adderall properly Davy?"
   "Yessir, twice a day like you said."
   "How are you sleeping?"
   "M'doin alright."
   "Nightmares, hallucinations?"
   "No, nothing."
   "Any idea what set you into your tirade?"
   "Unfortunately yes. I'd slept rather late n when I came down to the kitchen,
there wasn't any coffee left."
   "Coffee again huh."
   "It's not that even, I was mad - stupid as it is - that I'd been.. left out.
Petah offered to brew a pot n I went off on 'im. Tha's when Mike got pissed n
threatened to make one lil Davy into two. So I got scrappy with 'im."
   "Did it occur to you that the early bird might just get the fresh coffee?"
   "I know it's me own fault, but my mouth didn't consider that when I was
walking around half asleep with one eye open n my brain still in the pillow."
   "Tell me something positive that happened to you since we met last."
   "Mike let me keep my face the way I'm used to seeing it."
   "Powerful force at home is he?"
   "A little. Mostly 'es just protective of Petah. That n 'e doesn't tolerate
being disrespected."
   "Sounds like a good set of values. I want to do a blood draw on you today,
check your levels on the adderall. Very rarely there are people who just don't
maintain a reasonable amount in their system for it to work properly. Let's
make sure you're not one of them."
   "Ochh, I HATE needles."
   "Relax Davy; I'm a gentle touch," he said, putting on a glove, "So what are
your plans for the weekend?"
   "We 'ave rehearsal tomorrow - audition coming up to get ready for. Some time
at the beach maybe. Then Sunday I've gotta do all of Petah's chores and make
dinner, my atonement fer yesterday. Mike's day is Tuesday."
   "What about Tony?"
   "Erm.. I guess 'e was s'busy making sure I made amends with the others…”
   "Ah yes. Parents and parental figures often don't get the apologies or
atonement they deserve in the process of making sure their young adults are
treating others properly."
   "I'm on it Paul, Ipromise."
   "Good man. I'll see you Monday, ten o'clock. "
   "So," Tony asked on the drive home, "How did it go?"
   "Pretty good I guess, 'e took some blood from me: that sucked. Tony, what're
yer plans for today?"
   "My usual Friday routine; some gardening, mow the lawn - some baking.
Probably get a head start on the laundry, why?"
   "I'd like to do it m'self."
   "Do what kiddo?"
   "Yer work. Except maybe the baking, but I'll clean up ahftah if you don't
mind."
   "I'm not following you, why?"
   "Well, I'm doin what I can to make it up to the fellas, but I treated you
just as shitty. Thought maybe I could do some things fer you too. Just to
letcha know I really am sorry."
   "Wow Davy, I'm impressed. If it's that important to you, I think we can make
some of that happen."
   "To be fair n honest, Paul suggested I consider making amends with you. The
how part was my idea."
   "Tell you what kiddo, I'll look around the house for some work to give you
and you can choose a few hours worth from a list I'll put together. Sound
alright?"
   "Yessir, that'd be perfect."
***** Chapter 8 *****
   Back at home, Davy went straight upstairs to change, leaving Tony alone in
the kitchen with Mike.
   "Can I speak to you in confidence Mike?"
   "Course, is anything wrong?"
   "I'm not really sure just yet, and I may not have a solid answer until
Monday. I have a favor to ask of you, but it's a bit on the underhanded side.
If you'd rather not get involved in such a thing, I'll certainly understand."
   "Possibility, depends on what it is."
   "There's the slightest chance that Davy may be using drugs Mike; most likely
some sort of downer - probably opiate pain medication. Dr. Scott did bloodwork
today to check his adderall level - he's requesting a toxicology report as
well."
   "Tiny?! We're talkin about our innocent little cain't-drink-a-whole-beer
Davy?"
   "That would be the one. "
   "So y'all think the drugs are why he's been acting like this?"
   "On the contrary, the lack of them. He was on pain medication for so long;
his body likely became dependent on it. When the prescription stopped, he went
into withdrawal."
   "So how is it that he's using them now?"
   "If that's what he's doing, and its pills he is taking Mike, you can buy
them on the street almost anywhere."
   "So what is it ya wanted me to do?"
   "I may have you do a bit of snooping for me, if you think you can find an
excuse to get into his room."
   "Gimme a little bit to figger out a reason n I'll get back with you on
this."
   "Shh.. So I'll make the pork roast and asparagus and you'll handle the
salad?"
   "Sorry I was so long getting changed," Davy said, skipping down the stairs,
"I uh.. 'ad to visit the little boys room," he grinned.
   "What about dessert?" Mike asked, quickly following Tony's lead.
   "Cherries Jubilee? That's fine Davy, we were working out Sunday dinner."
   "Ohh please make it cherry cobbler?"
   "I could do a cobbler, what do you think Mike?"
   "Cobbler works for me. Coffee or wine?"
   "Why not both? Wine with dinner - coffee with dessert."
   "Tha' almond amaretto cappuccino you make would be perfect with the
cobbler!" Davy announced enthusiastically.
   "Cappuccino it is then. Are you ready kiddo?"
   "Sure am, hungry too ahfter all o this talk."
   "Come on, I'll make us some sandwiches and work on the list while we eat."
   "You don't hafta tell me twice, lead the way.”
   "I'll uh letcha know later what I come up with for that salad," Mike winked.
   "Sounds good, thanks Mike."
                                                                                     
*
  Mike took the opportunity he had to nose around upstairs while everyone was
out of the house - Davy would be hours working for Tony, and Micky and Peter
had just left for some time on the beach.
   Trying to think like a good detective, he visually scanned the room to
determine the best place to begin his search. Ruling out shared spaces like the
desk and nightstand, he decided to try the bathroom first. With twin sinks and
two medicine cabinets, Davy would have a more private place to keep a secret
stash.
   Rifling quickly through the shelves, careful to put everything back where it
belonged, Mike turned up little more than a disposable razor, a half-full
bottle of Davy's cologne, a new tube of toothpaste and a half dozen dust-
covered condoms still in their foil packaging. He pulled out the vanity drawer
and with as much luck as before came away with three combs, a nail file and a
small box of q-tips.
   "Damn!"
   Frustrated, he pounded a hand against the linen closet. A curious rattling
noise met his ears as something shook from within, falling to the floor.
   Opening the thinly paneled door, he looked toward the floor of the four-foot
built-in cabinet. Two unmarked brown bottles lay on a pillowcase, both of them
containing white oblong tablets. Pocketing both of them, Mike hurried
downstairs to make a phone call.
   "Hello?" Tony said into the phone.
   "This is Houston," Mike said, "We have a problem."
  Sitting in the kitchen Tony examined the pills in both of the defaced
prescription bottles, noting the numbers and letters etched into each of the
two different tablets. Using his cell phone he searched the internet to
determine just what he held in his hand.
   "Well?" Mike asked, anticipation in his eyes.
   "Damn," Tony sighed, "looks like Amy Dowling was right on the money. Both of
these are pain medications, but neither is what Dr. Bowen had written for Davy.
This one is the same pill - Hydrocodone - but they are ten milligrams, twice
the strength of the ones he was prescribed. These are Percocet, another pain
killer, also ten milligrams, though these have a higher potency."
   "So, now what do we do?"
   "I believe a family meeting is in order, can you get Micky and Peter up
here?"
   "Sure can. What about Tiny?"
   "I'm thinking not just yet."

   Peter and Micky sat silently as Tony filled them in on the situation with
Davy, Micky in particular having a difficult time accepting the possibility.
   "I know this is very hard to hear, especially for you amici, but if Davy has
a problem we have to address it head on."
   "I know that, it's just.. wow."
   "I cain't believe our little Tiny is swallowing pills like this, he's not
the partying type."
   "It isn't necessarily about partying Mike, quite simply his body became used
to getting the medicine, and now he's dependent. I just hope he's only
swallowing."
   "Whatta you mean?"
   "There are a number of ways to use these pills recreationally; swallowing
them is rare for an addict. More common is for them to snort or inject the
medication for a faster, more potent reaction."
   Eyes widening, Micky snapped his head up.
   "Mike, when was the last time we had powdered doughnuts in the house?"
   "Been at least a few months, why?"
   "Shit! The other day Davy had white powdery stuff on his nose. When I
mentioned it, he seemed a little flustered and he said he'd ate the last
powdered doughnut."
   "There you go," Tony said, shaking his head sadly, "but how? How did he even
know to do it that way?"
   "People who sell drugs are excellent teachers," Peter spoke up, "if they
supply you with it, they'll tell you how to get the best results."
   "So who's he getting it from?"
   "Believe me Micky," Tony said intently, "I intend to find out!"
   "When are you gonna talk to him?"
   "He should be wrapping things up any time next door; when he comes home
we'll sit him down and confront him together. I'll handle it, but as a family
I'd like you three to be here for support."
   "I can't believe this," Micky said, "I don't think I know how to evenfeel
right now."
   "It explains a lot more about the way Tiny's been acting."
   "I was hoping for more of an opportunity to prepare for this, but I don't
see a point in putting it off. The sooner we get this out in the open, the
sooner we can get him in treatment."
   "I think I hear him coming," Peter said.
   Sweaty and barefoot Davy came in through the bay doors, grass-stained
sneakers in his right hand.
   "I'm wiped out, s'been a while since I've mowed the lawn - its bloody hot
work!"
   Stripping off his shirt he mopped his forehead, dropping his shirt and shoes
in the corner. Coming into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of ice water,
draining it in one long swallow.
   "Have a seat Davy; I need to talk to you about something."
   Refilling the glass, he took his usual place next to Micky. Noting the
somber faces around him, he attempted a bit of humor.
   "I didn't do it and ya cahn't prove it cuz ya didn't see me," he laughed
half-heartedly. When no one else joined in, he took on a tenser pose.
   "I have a serious question to ask you kiddo, and I'm counting on you to tell
me the truth. You're among family; nobody here has anything but love and
concern for you."
   " ... Okay, wha's the question?"
   "Are you taking pain medication still Davy?"
   "Wha'? Dr. Bowen stopped giving them to me. Course I'm not."
   "Kiddo, I have good reason to believe that you are. Please, don't be afraid
to tell us, we all just want to help."
   "Tony m'not lying, why would I take pain pills when I'm not in pain
anymore?"
   "So if I search through your things I won't find anything I shouldn't?"
   "Now tha's fucked up, why cahn't ya just take my word fer it?"
   With a heavy sigh, Tony retrieved the two bottles from his pocket, setting
them on the table in front of him.
   "You want to try this one more time Davy?"
   Paling visibly Davy swallowed nervously, staring at the evidence brought to
his attention.
   "I dunno what you've got there, but if yer thinkin it's mine, yer wrong."
   "Kiddo the blood work Dr. Scott did today will tell me one way or the other,
so you might as well come clean."
   His head lowered Davy raked a hand through his hair. Unable to meet the
gazes of those around him he sat quietly staring at the table. Heart pounding,
voice trembling, he finally managed to find his tongue. Without looking up, he
spoke softly.
   "I uh.. I think I 'ave a problem."
   "Okay Davy, that was the first step. Before we go any further, tell me - do
you have anything else stashed away upstairs?"
   "No sir, the othah bottle is empty."
   "You bought it off the street?"
   "Yes."
   "Who is selling it to you?"
   "Man that's a cop question!" Peter interjected.
   "I cahn't tell you that."
   "Little one-" Micky began.
   "D'ya understand wha's gonna happen to me if I tell you guys! You think I
got me arse beat in jail? I'll be pulverized!"
   "He's right man, you don't tell names - snitches get stitches."
   "Davy I promise you that it will not go beyond the five of us - no police -
no talking to him or her. Agreed gentleman?"
   "Of course babe."
   "Absolutely Tiny."
   "I would never say anything Davy, but it's your decision. I'm not gonna push
you to tell, one way or another."
   "Thanks Petah."
   "Davy?"
   " ... I cahn't b'lieve m'doin this. I got em from Rocket, okay."
   "How did I know!" Mike said angrily.
   "Look this isn't about how or where I got the pills."
   "Not at this point, no. You pay cash for them?"
   "Well 'e doesn't take American Express."
   "I see. Do you have your ID on you kiddo?"
   "No, s'upstairs in my wallet. Why?"
   "Will you go up and get your wallet please?"
   "Wha' for?"
   "Please, go get your wallet."
   When Davy was out of earshot, Tony stood up from the table.
   "I'll be right back, I have to make a quick call. If he gets back before me,
keep him here."
   "We'll do our best, he can be an ornery lil cuss."
   Stepping out the front door, Tony made his private call, managing to finish
up and get back inside before Davy came back downstairs.
   "Would one of you mind putting on a pot of coffee or tea? We'll be having
company shortly - but not a word about it to Davy!"
   "I'll make both," Peter volunteered.
   "Thank you Peter. I wonder what's keeping Davy?"
   As if by magic the young Englishman materialized at the top of the stairs at
the mention if his name.
   "Sorry bout that, I wanted to f-freshen up n change clothes."
   "I can understand that. Have a seat Davy. "
   "Coffees on and so is the tea kettle, won't be long now."
   "Did you bring your wallet?"
   "Right 'ere, but I don't understand why you want my drivers license."
   "I don't kiddo. Assuming you're not going to be placed in a treatment
facility, I intend to remove every opportunity you have to buy any more pills.
I want your credit cards, bank cards and all of your cash."
   "Are you kidding me?"
   "Not in the least."
   "Tha's not right, yer taking all my freedom away - I cahn't even buy
deodorant or clothes if I need them!"
   "You know better than to think I'd let you go without anything you need. I
can either buy it for you or take you shopping."
   "Suppose I wanna buy a pizza or go to a movie?"
   "Again, IF you don't wind up inpatient someplace, that's not going to be an
issue either - you will not be leaving the house alone or without permission
until further notice. Cards and cash, please."
   "This is bloody bullshit!" He said, jumping up from his chair, "I've got
half a mind to pack up and go back to fucking England!"
   "That's your decision kiddo - meanwhile you'll mind your language."
   "You mean you'd just GO?" Micky asked, hurt in his eyes, "because of a few
restrictions meant to protect you - help you? Leave me, just like that?!"
   "It's not about you - this is just wrong!"
   "Its very simple Davy, play by these rules or go into a treatment facility.
If you want to go back to England, you can be certain I will make sure that
they understand why. Now, calm down, sit down and give me the things I've asked
for."
   His back against the proverbial wall Davy reluctantly took his seat. As he
thumbed through his wallet fishing for the cards in question, there came a
sharp knock at the front door.
   "I'll get that," Mike said, hurrying across the room.
   "Now the cash please."
   Emptying his billfold Davy stood and turned out both front pockets, handing
over all the money he had on him.
   "Is this all the money you have kiddo?"
   "I think there's twelve cents up on my night stand, ya want tha' too?"
   "Sure, if you're going to be a smart aleck, why not."
   "Tony," Mike said from behind him, "you have a visitor."
   Davy's mouth dropped open in utter shock to see Paul Scott standing beside
Mike.
   "Wha's all this 'ere, droppin' in fer tea?"
   "I asked Paul to stop by Davy; he was kind enough to take time out of his
personal life to be here for you."
   "Hello Davy, mind if I sit and talk with you and your family?"
   "You pulling a string on me Tony?" Davy asked, panic in his young eyes.
   "Absolutely not! I thought we'd benefit from a professional's assistance and
opinion, and that is all!"
   "You seem a little uptight Davy, what's your concern son?"
   "Concern? No concern. My FACT is that I'll be bloody gone before ANYONE
locks me up in a padded room someplace!"
   "I was rather hoping we could do an outpatient treatment plan for you, but
it's something you'd have to cooperate with. Are you willing to do that David?"
   "Please little one, please."
   "We just wanna help you Tiny."
   "Davy, I'm hardly the best role model. I do a lot of things that most people
think are way out there to expand my mind. I'll probably always smoke a little
grass, but if it will help you, I'll give up everything else to support you in
doing this. We'll quit together."
   "Kiddo, we're not trying to hurt or control you, we love you Davy and we
want you back. What do you think kiddo?"
   "Coffees ready, so is the tea."
   "Tell you what," Paul said, "how about you and I get a cup of coffee or tea
and take a little walk on the beach, talk for a bit. Can you do that David?"
   "N-no tricks? No s-strings?"
   "You have my word, just a little impromptu session."
   "Alright then - b-but I need a pill or s-something - m'coming apart."
   Paul whispered to Tony and he nodded briefly. Helping himself to a cup of
coffee, he turned to his panicky patient.
   "For ethical reasons I'm going to step outside. Tony will explain the rest,
and when you're ready, we'll take that walk."
   "O-okay."
   When Paul had closed the door behind him, Tony sighed and turned to the
boys.
   "Okay, this is about to get real. Anybody wants to step out now's the time."
   "W-wha's going on - are you gonna p-punish me?"
   "No Davy, no! Sit down kiddo, it’s alright. Tell me honestly Davy, when did
you last use?"
   "About four o'clock this morning. Why?"
   "How often do you usually have a pill or pills?"
   "I.. I've been taking three or four every five to six hours."
   "Yaa. That's what I figured; you’re going into withdrawal. Paul made it
clear that until a proper substitute is scripted to you, it's dangerous to cut
you off cold. So, here's the deal: I'll give you two Percocet now and more
every so often per Paul's guidelines until you have a replacement medication.
However - and I don't care how you do it - you'll take them here at the table,
in front of at least me. Deal?"
   "P-please, yes. Just l-let me 'ave the pills."
   "Do you want anyone else to step out Davy?"
   "If they can b-be 'ere without j-judging me, then no."
   "You're not going to eat them, are you?"
   "N-no, m'not."
   "What do you need?"
   "A p-pocket knife, a straw and a s-small glass of water.”
   "I'll get the water and the straw."
   "I reckon you can use my knife Tiny."
   "You alright Micky?"
   "I guess so, just a little weirded out."
   "Do you want to step out amici?"
   "No, I'm with him for the long haul, good or bad, easy or hard."
   Clearly not expecting his words, Davy turned to him, hope and shame mixed on
his pale face.
   "Thank you," he whispered.
   Tony and the others sat spellbound, watching transfixed as Davy performed
the ritual he had learned so well of late: With the flat side of the knife, he
smashed both tablets into small crumbs. Using the blade, he ground the crumbs
into a fine white powder, looking much like a coarse flour. Dividing the pile
in half he began shaping it into two lines, lengthening and narrowing them as
he went. Satisfied with his work, he cut the straw down to a three-inch length,
tossing the excess piece aside.
   "Last chance to d-duck out," Davy warned.
   When nobody moved he carried on with his task; his need strong - his pain
mounting.
   Placing the straw segment in his right nostril and blocking the left, he
lined it up with the first section of white powder. Sniffing slowly and deeply
he inhaled the entire length, tipping his head back when he was through.
Switching to the other side of his nose, he repeated the process with the
remaining crushed tablet. Dropping the straw, he dipped two fingers into the
water, sniffing the drops into his nose.
   Eyes closed he waited for the relief to come, hands clasped behind his head.
Beside him, a single tear ran down Micky's cheek. Peter looked away, sad to see
his young friend come to such a state. Against his natural grain, Mike too was
feeling the agony that brought a tear to Micky's eyes. Ever the stoic, he
clenched his fists, refusing to show his emotions.
   "Whenever you're ready Davy," Tony said softly, "Paul is waiting for you out
back."
   Looking up at him Davy appeared calm, his hunger temporarily sated he was
finally able to relax.
   "Right, we shouldn't be too long."
   He stood up to go and squeezed Micky's shoulder as he passed by. Slipping
out the bay doors he disappeared from sight, allowing everyone to release the
breath they'd been unconsciously holding.
   "Damn," Mike breathed.
   "No shit," Micky agreed.
   "That has to be the hardest thing I've done in a long, long time," Tony
said, collapsing into his seat.
   "It's still Davy," Peter spoke up, "He's still the same sweet, wonderful,
caring funny guy we all love. Only now, he has a problem. He still has feelings
and needs, still wants to laugh and be loved."
   "Very well said Peter. Along with the love, though he is going to need our
strength, support and determination to keep him on track with this. It's going
to be the most difficult for you, Micky, but I know you love him enough that
when you feel weak, you'll step back and let the rest of us handle him."
   "I'll have to, I want him better - I want him back."
   "This is going to get much harder before it gets better, it’s going to take
a lot of patience and will. I hope you're all up to the challenge. If not -
he'll have to go inpatient."
   "I'm in, no matter what."
   "Me too man, that's my little one."
   "He's an ornery lil cuss and I still wanna take him over my knee - but I'll
do anything to help get Tiny offa that crap."
   "Okay, so it's up to him and Paul to decide what happens from here. Let's
just hope it's the right choice."
***** Chapter 9 *****
    Forty-five minutes later Davy and Paul returned from the beach. At Paul's
request, Davy waited in his room while he and the rest of the family talked.
   "I really feel he's in the right frame of mind to do outpatient treatment,
he was very candid about the facts of his dependency and is eager to kick it to
the curb."
   "What about the withdrawal symptoms, isn't that gonna be hard to manage at
home?"
   "Mike is it? I'll be prescribing him a high-level substitution medication
called Suboxone, as well as a time-released dosage of the Adderall for anxiety.
With that and his tri-weekly sessions it shouldn't be too difficult."
   "I've already cut off his access to any cash flow, and he won't be allowed
out of the house alone for the time being. What else can we do to help ensure
he stays on the straight and narrow?"
   "Close monitoring of his whereabouts is key, any medicines in the home
should be under lock and key including his prescriptions. Alcohol use should be
minimal if any, and there need to be strict rules and definite accountability
on his part."
   "What happens if it doesn't work out?"
   "Well Micky, Davy is well aware that failure to comply and succeed on an
outpatient basis will land him in a live-in treatment program. I'm sure he'll
have some issues along the way, but I believe he can do this."
   "Do you think he'll start having panic attacks again?"
   "Most likely in the beginning Peter, but between the adderall and the
lorazepam Tony has on hand, it should be manageable. If not, you'll have my
emergency number - and there's always mobile crisis."
   "I appreciate you taking time to come here this afternoon; you've gone
beyond your obligation here Paul. Unless there's something more, I'll walk you
out."
   "I'll write out a dosing schedule for the Percocet until we can get his
scripts written - which probably won't be until Monday. Beyond any questions
you may have. I think that's about it."
   "Alright, thanks again."
                                                                                     
*
  When Paul was gone, Tony set everyone to task Davy-proofing the house. Mike
and Peter worked to gather all medications in the place while Tony drove to
town to purchase two lockboxes. Micky was sent upstairs to keep an eye on his
wayward boyfriend, who was currently moping in his room.
   "Hey," Micky said, slipping into the bed next to Davy.
   "Hey."
   "So, you wanna play cards or something?"
   "Not really."
   "Oh. How about checkers or backgammon?"
   "M'really not in the mood."
   "Oh."
   "I could make us a snack."
   "No, thanks."
   Running out of ideas, Micky sat staring straight ahead, not knowing exactly
what to say. Time crawled by as they both sat silently, sighing and picking at
the fuzz on the bedspread.
   "Micky?" Davy said timidly, breaking the tense quiet.
   "Yaa?"
   "Do you.. still love me?"
   "Are you kidding me? You have to ASK me that?"
   "I really fucked up; I wouldn't blame you if you don't."
   "Would you stop loving me if the situation were reversed?"
   "Of course not!"
   "Well alright then! Listen up little one; I'm not so easy to shake off. I
don't know how they do things where you come from, but in my neck of the woods,
we do not turn tail and run from the people we are with because they screw up.
I love you David Jones, like it or not, you're stuck with me!'
   "Yaa?" He smiled a tiny grin.
   "Yaa. Don't make me wrestle you down and tickle your little ass, cuz I will
- until you believe every word!"
   "Okay, alright I believe you! No tickling, you know I cahn't take that!"
   "Then don't ever doubt it again - or I swear I'll tie you to the bed and
tickle you till you beg!"
   "I love you too Micky," he smiled broadly, "I'm gonna fix this, I am."
   "I believe in you cookie, and we're all here for you. It's gonna be okay."
   "Davy - Micky," Tony called, "could you come down here please?"
   "Oh boy, 'ere we go."
   "Mellow out; just relax and take it one step at a time. Come on."

   Tony, Mike and Peter were in the living room waiting for Davy and Micky.
When the boys came down, Tony invited them to join them there.
   "Alright, I wanted everyone present while I laid out the ground rules for
you kiddo, so there's no confusion about what is and is not allowed from here
on out. All of you please, pay careful attention. "
   "Wouldn't it be easier to write a booklet?" Davy asked with a laugh.
   "Don't be so hasty with the wisecracks, while there are a lot of new rules
it isn't going to be THAT overwhelming. First off, no access whatsoever to
money - that includes cash, credit cards and bankcards. Davy does not get any
kind of medication - not even a Tylenol or cough drop without my permission.
All medicines from both houses are now in lockboxes. I have a key and I'm
giving the other key to Mike."
   "Why him, why not me?"
   "Amici I mean you no offense, but if I entrusted you with this
responsibility it would be a difficult task for you to say no to Davy if enough
pressure were applied. There may be a time when you'll be in a position to give
him his dose, but ANYONE who administers him medication will sign and date this
log, with the time: Failure to do so will force me to move Davy home with me
till this is over, do not doubt me!"
   Micky and Davy exchanged wary glances, knowing full well that he would do
it.
   "Davy, you are not to set foot outside of this house unescorted and without
my knowledge, not even to check the mailbox. If there's somewhere you want or
need to go, somebody else will drive you - most likely me."
   "Tha's just not right; I'm gonna be a prisoner in my own home!"
   "Not true, you'll still go to restaurants, the movies even the beach; but
until further notice not alone and not without my permission. Next, no alcohol,
period."
   "Wha' about Sunday dinner?"
   "I'm sorry Davy I'm afraid not. That may change over time - any of these
rules can - based on how well you hold up your end of the bargain. "
   "So 'ow am I gonna know that?"
   "If you feel you've earned a change in privileges, talk to me. We will
discuss it and if I think it's merited, I'll make some changes. In the same
turn, if something arises that brings about the need for a new rule or
restriction, I reserve the right to add to these limitations as I see fit. The
last thing on my list at this point is not negotiable."
   "Wha's that?"
   "Stay away from Ben Worthington. No arguments."
   " ... Yessir, I understand."
   "That's about it for the moment, do you have any questions?"
   "Just one. When do I get me next erm dose?"
   "Paul and I both did some calculations. Based on what you indicated you've
bought and when, with what you have left, you've been using an average of a
hundred eighty to two hundred twenty milligrams a day."
   Mike let out a long, low whistle. Mouth agape, Peter just stared.
   "WOW!" Micky exclaimed, "Damn Davy!"
   "Lay orf will ya fellas, fuck!"
   "Mind your tongue, you know I don't like that word Davy. As for the
comments, I understand how they would be hurtful. However, I'm sure it isn't
meant to be, it's just a lot to swallow kiddo. At any rate, until you have a
substitute, you will get three at a time every five hours. Which gives you
about another hour to go."
   "Ugh, tha's a long time!"
   "I just remembered one other thing. You are subject at any given time I deem
it necessary to submit to a drug test either here at home or in Paul's office.
Refusal will be considered a positive result and you'll be transferred into
inpatient treatment immediately."
   "Tha's a bit fascist doncha think? Wha' if I cahn't piss?"
   "I have nothing but time kiddo; I can stand there and wait all day long."
   "Wai' a minit - d'ya mean to tell me yer gonna WATCH?!"
   "Every single time."
   Scowling, Davy flopped back against the sofa cushion, arms folded across his
chest like a child pouting over a denied privilege.
   "Tha's just wrong on so many levels," he said, shaking his head, "are ya
sure yer not just trying to get another wicked look at my package?"
   "Excuse me?!" Tony said, mild outrage etched into his features.
   Acting quickly Micky clamped a hand over Davy's mouth, preventing him from
earning a quick ass-whipping from the incensed Italian across the room.
   "What he REALLY meant is he'd be a little embarrassed but he won't argue the
point," he supplied for his now struggling boyfriend.
   "I'm going home while my temper is relatively in check - here's the other
key Mike. Please keep it someplace where only you will have access to it. I'll
be back in n hour with his dose."
   Without a backwards glance he was up and out the door, his boot heels
clicking sharply on the floor as he crossed the room. Squirming out of Micky's
grasp, Davy too shot to his feet.
   "Will yer cut it out, I'm perfectly capable of speaking fer meself!"
   "You're perfectly capable of running that cocky mouth of yours till you get
whacked upside the head by a big ol Italian fist! All I did was get you outta
trouble little one!"
   "Yaa whatever."
   "Simmer down shotgun, you're just a might edgy cuz ya want them pills. Don't
get your tumblweeds in a tizzy."
   "Listen you I-"
   Instinctively, Micky once again capped the spouting fountain that was Davy's
pie-hole, leading him toward the stairs to safety. Once behind closed doors,
Davy broke free from his vise-like grip.
   "Yer stahrtin' to get on me nerves with tha'!"
   "We really, really, REALLY need to work on your timing or your need to get
the last word in, cuz one of em are gonna get you hurt."
   "Fuck you Micky!"
   "Okay, but ya hafta use lube."
   The fast comeback said with a straight face did the trick, putting a huge
grin on Davy's previously sour puss. Leave it to Micky to break the spell every
time.
   "Ahh God thank you, I needed that. Yer the only one who can make me laugh
when I'm ready to throttle somebody."
   "It’s this face - it's a classic - impossible to resist."
   "Yaa, right along with everythin’ else that's attached to it. C’mere you."
   Tumbling onto the bed Davy pulled Micky down on top of him lavishing him
with kisses, his hands exploring the slim torso eagerly.
   "Wow cookie, still feeling a bit aggressive?"
   "I've got nearly an hour to kill, I figure there's gotta be SOMETHING we
could think up to pass the time."
   "ThisIS my favorite thinking position. I dare say; it seems to me that
you’re wearing entirely too many clothes mister. What's say we remedy that
situation?"
   "By all means yes, cahn't 'ave that now can we?"
   Pulling his shirt over his head Davy lifted his hips obligingly, allowing
Micky to slide his now-unzipped jeans off of him.
   "Commando?" Micky asked, delightfully surprised.
   "Erm, I was in a hurry," he grinned.
   "You won't get any complaints from me."
   Leaning forward he licked a quick stripe up the underside of Davy's already
full erection, eliciting a yelp from above his head.
   "Alright, no teasing!"
   "Just a preview."
   "Speaking of views, I'm feeling a bit naked 'ere with you still fully
dressed, 'ow bout giving a mate something bettah to look at than a cotton t-
shirt?"
   "Oh you want me to undress huh?"
   "Be smashing of you."
   "You wanna glimpse of this smokin-hot body?"
   "A glimpse, a taste and more!"
   "Well now how can I refuse such a convincing argument?"
   Standing beside the bed Micky made a seductive show of stripping down to his
birthday suit, Davy drooling and all eyes.
Crawling up the bed with a lecherous grin Micky went for Davy's earlobe,
knowing it was his weak spot, kissing and licking as he ground against him with
his hungry cock.
   "Tell me what you want little one."
   "I want you inside me; screw the foreplay - fuck me Micky.”
   "Whatever you say babe."
   Eager to accommodate him Micky wasted no time locating the lube, generously
coating his hardness. The dark, lustful eyes gazing up at him urging him on he
dispensed with all polite etiquette, lining up immediately with the furrowed
entrance waiting to pleasure him.
   Drawing his knees close to his chest, Davy licked his lips, a smoldering
desire radiating from his face.
   "Give it to me good babe, lemme know who's in charge."
   "Okay cookie, but remember - you asked for it."
   His desire stoked Micky shoved ruthlessly forward, slamming his hips against
the firm round backside presented to him. Stifling a cry Davy bit into his own
lip, the searing pain in his ass both gratifying and torturous in one strike.
Steeling himself, Micky fought back the dizzying pleasure that threatened to
overwhelm him, the incredible heat and Davy's clenching sending electric
thrills through his screaming cock. In a steady rhythm, he pounded into the
tiny channel with no mercy, alternating between short hard jabs and deep
thrusts. The ceaseless litany of pleading moans proceeding from his lover's
mouth intensified as he bit down roughly on the tiny pink peak that was his
left nipple, soothing it with erotic laps of his silky tongue. His own fervor
mounting, Davy clutched at him, his short nails leaving thin bloody lines along
the graceful curve of his back.
   "So hot, oh Micky!"
   "Touch yourself Davy, I wanna see you cum."
   Hungry with passion Davy obeyed, his right hand flanking his red and pulsing
shaft at a mindless fiery pace. Combined with the smooth, cyclic prodding of
his prostate by his lover's ravenous cock, he crossed his threshold, exploding
with a rapturous cry for mercy.
   The twisted face of ecstasy beneath him fueled Micky's carnal fire. Driving
deeper, he thrust himself forward once - twice - burying himself on the third
and final lunge, filling his lover's ass with a shuddering moan.
   His arms weak and shaky Micky collapsed onto Davy's quivering body, their
sweat mingling, their breath coming in matching ragged gasps. Slipping to the
mattress he lay beside his little one, the two struggling to catch their
breath, lost in each other’s eyes.
   "My God that was so hot - damn Davy!"
   "You," Davy panted, "you hafta.. dothat.. again. Soon."
***** Chapter 10 *****
   True to his word, Tony was back an hour later with Davy's allotted three
pills. Despite his dislike for the method with which he chose to use them, he
dutifully sat watching until all three tablets had been consumed; As
distasteful as it was he would leave no opportunity for Davy to stockpile any
medication.
   All of his other needs satisfied for the moment Davy had only one thing left
on his mind - food. The events of the day had thrown the five young men off
schedule, and with suppertime fast approaching stomachs were growling in every
corner of the house. As usual in such a predicament, Tony came to the rescue.
   "I can only suggest that we either order take-out, or I run to the market
and pick up some things for a light meal."
   "How light," Micky asked, "I totally just worked up an appetite."
   "Oh PLEASE - no details - you know I have a visual imagination. I was
thinking of ciabatta rolls, several deli meats and cheeses, some antipasto, a
pasta salad and some sort of rich sweet bread."
   "Sounds good to me, I could eat a huge sandwich!"
   "I'll go along with that," Mike smiled, "If you don't mind throwing in some
jalapenos to go alongside."
   "Can do. Any other requests?"
   "A good crunchy lettuce for the hoagies!"
   "Lettuce for Micky."
   "We're out of cokes."
   "Drinks for Davy. Peter?"
   "Horseradish. I love it on a turkey sandwich."
   "Alrighty, I shouldn't be long. Davy is there anything you need while I'm
going out?"
   "Toothpaste and a couple of magazines?"
   "Anything in particular?"
   "As long as it's not about sports I don't care. Music, 'orses, cars or
celebrities is good."
   "Okay kiddo I'll see what I can come up with."
  Returning from the market Tony knew immediately that something was wrong.
Approaching the door he could hear Davy wailing, demanding to be let go. The
house was in utter shambles, with chairs overturned, curtains ripped from the
window and shards of broken glass littering the kitchen floor. Behind the
larger of the two sofas, Davy lay on his stomach on the floor. Mike was
straddling his back, holding on for dear life as the angry teen bucked like a
wild horse, attempting to dislodge the human paperweight.
   "LEMME GO YOU BLOODY ARSE HOLE - LEMME UP I TELL YOU!"
   "What in the HOLY HELL is going on?" Tony demanded.
   "Mike's trying to play fathah knows best again!
   With a sharp jab to his ribs, Mike effectively ended Davy's ranting for a
moment.
   "Ol slick here thought he was gonna suck down a glass of beer when nobody
was a lookin' - MY beer. I happened to catch him and he takes off running with
my favorite mug like it's a game of cat n mouse, sipping as he goes. I decided
a little reverse psychology was better n chasing after him, so I snatched up
his favorite shirt from the dryer. Took a pair of scissors up n told him we'd
trade even up - he gives me back my mug o beer n I would let his t-shirt live a
long n happy life. He said I wouldn't dare and took another swaller. So I cut
his shirt collar - up the seam - and the ornery lil cuss threw my fucking mug
at me! Shattered it right next to my head!"
   "I'm sorry I missed you, ya stupid prick!"
   At this verbal onslaught, Mike promptly delivered another painful thump to
Davy’s ribcage.
   "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the physicalities to me Mike. I understand
you're angry - and rightly so, but I’d like you to stop hitting him.
   "Yaa!" Davy squawked.
   "YOU had better shut that mouth of yours kiddo, you're in enough hot water
as it is! In just a moment, Mike is going to let you up. When he does, you are
going to be calm, behave and keep your mouth shut while you clean up this mess.
Then you're going to go upstairs for the rest of the night - I'll send you a
dinner tray. Capiche?"
   "Tha's fucked up!"
   "One more word Davy and you'll be punished much further."
   Fuming but silent Davy seethed beneath Mike’s weight, fists clenched in
angry defiance.
   "Mike if you will."
   Wary of the raging bull on the carpet below him, Mike held the feisty youth
in place as he gained his feet, quickly stepping out of reach. In an instant
Davy was up, his eyes ablaze with unbridled rage. Turning to face the lanky
Texan he opened his mouth, a venomous tirade ready to spill forth.
   "I strongly recommend you reconsider," Tony warned, "you're looking at
serious discipline now Davy, don't force me to turn to corporal punishment."
   "Please Davy," Micky spoke up, "please just do what he says."
   Looking into Micky's pleading heartfelt stare he let out a heavy breath,
forcing himself to calm down. A trembling hand raked through his hair as he
fought the urge to run for the door escaping to the beach below. Eyes still
locked with Micky's he finally admitted defeat, offering a simple brief nod of
surrender.
   Wordlessly, he went about the matter of straightening the room, grasping for
the first time the reality of the aftermath of his actions. Tears of
frustration filled his eyes as he cleaned up the shattered remains of Mike's
boot-shaped mug he had brought all the way from Texas, sudden pangs of guilt
burning in his midsection.
   Having put everything back as it should be, he picked up the shirt that Mike
had threatened to destroy - his own fault for certain - would that he'd only
done as Mike had asked. The tears flowing freely now he gripped the shirt on
either side of the snipped seam, and with a self-loathing he'd never known
ripped it in two. Dropping the shredded cloth in the trashcan he plodded up the
stairs, shoulders slumped, and went into his room.
   "Well I'll be a son-of-a-"
   "Michael …"
   "Yaa shotgun?"
   "I think that means he's sorry."
   "I'd say you're probably right Cotton."
   When everyone had eaten, Tony went upstairs and knocked on the door to Micky
and Davy's room.
   "It's open."
   "Hey kiddo," Tony said, closing the door behind him, "I wanted to see what
you want on your sandwich; I'm getting ready to make your tray."
   "I don't even deserve a meal; I don't deserve any of you."
   "We'll deal with your behavior after you've had some dinner, you can count
on it - but self deprivation isn't going to help. So, about the sandwich."
   "What do we 'ave?" he sighed.
   "Turkey, salami, pastrami, roast beef and honey ham."
   "Is pastrami and roast beef okay?"
   "Cheddar, provolone, muenster or havarti?"
   "Cheddar and havarti."
   "Mustard, mayonnaise, horseradish - Italian dressing?"
   "Horseradish and mayo please."
   "Any accoutrements?"
   "Lettuce and tomato on the side?"
   "You want all the trimmings?"
   "If I may."
   "I'll bring you a coke to drink; do you want dessert as well? I picked up an
Italian cream cake."
   "Yes, please."
   "Give me a few minutes kiddo."
   "Yessir, thank you Tony."
  When Tony returned, he handed Davy a tray loaded with food. Aside from the
enormous sandwich was a succulent Italian pasta salad, a plate of jalapenos,
pepperoncini, olives, cherry tomatoes, a hunk of lettuce and a pickle wedge, a
tall glass of icy cold coke and a large piece of cake.
   "Wow! I didn't expect s'much food, thank you!"
   "I'm not going to hold back on food or any other rights Davy just because
you went stupid. You eat, I'll do the talking."
   "Erm, okay."
   "First off, if I'm not mistaken I believe that I told you just a few hours
ago no alcohol. You directly disobeyed my instructions breaking a very
important rule. Why?"
   Swallowing a mouthful of food, Davy ducked his head, finding it suddenly
very hard to look Tony in the eyes.
   "I don't have an ahnsah fer that, not even a bad excuse."
   "So you just wanted to drink? Wanted to aggravate Mike? To see what you
could pull off behind my back?"
   Two honey-brown pools gazed up at him behind long dark lashes, a mixture of
shame and trepidation in their liquid depths.
   "I .. I don't know."
   "Then, knowing full well that I would expect you to obey Mike under such
circumstances, you defy him, make him give chase - wrecking the house and
wreaking havoc all through the place?"
   At this point Davy had stopped eating, his stomach twisting, his appetite
having vanished with his voice. Staring down at the bed, he couldn't even
manage a nod.
   "Then that stunt you pulled that could have easily cost Mike dearly - not
just in losing a cherished possession but damn Davy - what if you'd have hithim
with that glass?!"
   "I was angry - 'e cut my favorite shirt! I didn't intend to throw the glass,
it was.. just a reaction."
   "What's it going to take kiddo? Am I going to have to keep you by my side
everywhere I go? Just to keep you in line?"
   "No."
   "It's starting to look exactly like that Davy. Believe me; before I get
trapped in a pattern of running over here every five minutes, I will assert
MAJOR changes to get things in hand. One more idiotic move like that from you
and I will pack you up and move you home with me!"
   "No Tony, please don't! Don't misunderstand, s'not that I don't like you or
anything, but I need to be with Micky!"
   "You don't have to explain Davy I already realize the reasons why. This is
my decision to make, but ultimately it’s you who will determine whether or not
I have to make it! I get that this is going to be a very hard road for you,
recovery always is. We're all expecting some degree of irritability and perhaps
even attitude from you over the course of the next few months. Erratic and
dangerous behavior however is not acceptable on any level and will be dealt
with immediately and harshly. The ball is in your court."
   "I understand. I'll do bettah, if it takes me skin off."
   "I want you to finish your dinner; regardless of how dangerous it may be to
cut you off abruptly I refuse to keep feeding you narcotics if you're not going
to eat."
   "So I'm staying 'ere?"
   "For the time being, yes."
   "Thanks Tony, I'll clean my plate I promise."
   "I'm going downstairs to talk with the boys. You should be aware that I'm
advising them that you are to obey reasonable instructions from ANY of them in
my absence. I'm going to make it clear as well that you are to be handled
properly - no destroying your possessions - no corporal action. I did not
appreciate Mike hitting you earlier. It wasn't necessary and isn't going to
continue."
   "You'd do tha' fer me?"
   "I'm not going to allow anyone to bully you any more than I'll allow you to
terrorize the household. If you're out of control, restraining you is obviously
fair play, so keep that in mind. I'll see you at nine o'clock with your pills.
You're to stay in here for the remainder of the night."
   "Yessir."
                                                                                     
*
  In the kitchen, Peter and Micky were cleaning up from dinner. Taking a moment
alone with Mike Tony had a heart to heart chat with him out on the back patio.
   "I want first to tell you Mike that I have much respect for you. As Davy's
guardian I feel you and I need to come to terms on some things, but by no means
do I want to sound condescending, or seem that I hold myself above you - as I
do not."
   "Alright, I think we can talk to each other just fine. We're both fairly
simple men and relatively intelligent, communication is important for good
understanding."
   "I agree. You and I are very much alike - logical, wordy and natural
leaders. I see you playing the role of Papa here with the others; in spite of
the fact that Peter is the oldest and you're all fairly close in age. You do it
very well I might add and surely they would be floundering without you."
   "Thank you. It's hard sometimes to know just where responsibility ends and
friendship picks up, the line gets blurred and I don't know if I'm doing too
much or not enough."
   "Don't over analyze it, you'll second guess yourself into trouble. Take Davy
for example: I'll be the very first to agree that he owes you respect in your
home, should follow your rules and in my absence should certainly heed you as
if you were in charge."
   "Life rules really, show respect, obey your elders - appreciate the home
you're given."
   "Quite right. On the other side of this coin, we have a nineteen year old
man - a youth still truthfully - who considers you his peer, looks up to you in
many ways and wants very much for you to consider him your friend."
   "Tiny is my friend!"
   "He'd also like to think that you are his."
   "I am. Though I suppose it don't much look like it when I've got him pinned
to the floor, does it."
   "I'm sure he questioned it at that point," he chuckled, "Mike of everyone
here I'm counting on you the most to help me get this boy back on his feet.
Granted, it takes a village, but you and I are the most level-headed by far,
and as the leaders of our two blended families - please read between the lines
here - I expect you to do better thanpunching a drug-addicted kid in the ribs
when he’s pissed you off."
   Distant and quiet, Mike's contemplative stare was difficult to read.
Patiently and hoping for the best, Tony waited for the other man to speak.
   "I think the world o that boy, but sometimes he gets under my skin so bad, I
just wanna whoop him till he cries uncle. Then there're times when he makes me
s'proud I wanna write home about him."
   "He's definitely a character that one, but not a bad kid. Feisty and mouthy,
but I believe it's him wanting to be acknowledged in some way that brings him
to that. As if he wants someone to look at him -"
   "The way he looks up to me. Dadgum I sure set a great example today, didn’t
I?”
   "I don't believe you would act the way you do with Davy if you didn't want
so much to shape his life. I know how frustrating it is to be responsible - or
at least FEEL responsible for the way a younger person turns out. Sometimes
though Mike you have to trust that some of what you've said has gotten through
- and sometimes you have to take a joke, or even be one."
   "Sumthin else I can add to my list of things I've failed at."
   "I don't think you've failed. You clearly have his full attention, but
perhaps altering your methods a bit would draw him in. Being a good leader is
more often about guiding than authority. While you have to have both, it's a
delicate balance and with Davy and you, a good-natured attitude may make all
the difference in the world. One more piece of advice, something I'll live by
till the day I die: When you're dealing with kids of any age Mike, try to catch
them doing something good. If you're always the heavy, eventually they tune you
out."
   "You really think I'm a natural leader?"
   "Absolutely, and someday you're going to make some kid the best father
ever.”
   A genuine smile plastered to his face, Mike was touched and more than a
little humbled. Uncomfortable with compliments, he was having a hard time
responding.
   "Well, I'm going to head home and shower, I'll be back around nine with
Davy's meds. I've grounded him to his room for the rest of the night, he
shouldn't be any trouble."
   "Hey Tony?" Mike called as he stepped onto the sand.
   "Yes?"
   "I'm gonna do right by Tiny, the best that I can. Thank you."
   "I know you will," he smiled, and went on his way.
                                                            *
   Later that evening Mike went up to see Davy, hoping he’d let him into his
room. Taking a deep breath, he rapped on the door and waited.
   "Doors open," Davy called.
   "It's Mike, can I come in Tiny?"
   ".. I guess so, yaa."
   Bracing himself for what may be a hostile encounter, he stepped into the
room and closed the door.
   "Alright if I sit down, talk to ya for a bit?"
   "Sure."
   "I was thinking about everything that happened earlier today. You pulled a
really stupid stunt there Davy - but I was wrong with the way I handled the
situation. Apologies don't come easy for me, but basically that's what I'm
tryin' to do here."
   "I owe you an apology too. I don't know why I egg you on Mike; I think yer a
groovy guy. I'm sorry I broke yer mug, if ya tell me 'ow to get another one, I
promise I'll replace it."
   "Well Tiny I wouldn't fuss over it none."
   "I want to, really."
   "I'm afraid ya cain't. I won that mug in a talent contest back in Houston
'fore I ever left home. Second prize."
   "Dammit! Now I REALLY feel like an arse. Man I'm so sorry, you can break
something of mine if you want to."
   "No Davy, no. I come up here to make peace with you not to stir the shitpot.
I wanted to tell you that I'm gonna try n do better, to be a better friend n a
better example to you. My first step in that direction is in this here bag.
   Reaching to the floor, he retrieved a gray plastic shopping bag, handing it
over to his young friend.
   "Wha's this?"
   "Let's just call it a peace offering."
   Curious and a little excited Davy looked inside, his eyes widening in
shocked surprise. Inside was a brand new shirt, identical to the one in the
kitchen trash.
   "Mike! You shouldn't 'ave done this - I don't deserveit! Not ahftah the way
I treated you!"
   "Maybe Davy it never woulda come to alla that if I'd have acted like the
responsible older friend instead of a controlling, demanding tyrant. So please,
just take it. Let's you n me try makin a fresh start of things."
   "I'd like that too. I'll try 'ard Mike, I really don't mean to be so
disrespectful. Sometimes I just want you to see me fer something else, and it
always comes out wrong."
   "I understand that, the same thing happens with me sometimes."
   "Really?"
   "Yup. New beginning?" He asked, extending his hand.
   "Fresh stahrt," Davy smiled, giving him a hearty handshake.
   "Alright then. Well I'm gonna go, Peter's waiting for me down in our room.
I'll see you in the morning."
   "G'night Mike, and thanks again."
   "You betcha."
                                                                                     
*
   By eight-fifteen Davy was pacing the floor, a jangle of nerves. The lower
daily quantity of opiates - far less than he was used to - was merely teasing
his enormous craving. Desperate, he rummaged through the medicine cabinet,
hoping some scrap had been left behind that would ease the stupor building
within him: They had been thorough however, leaving nothing that would enhance
his narcotic haze. As a last resort, he picked up his phone. With trembling
fingers he punched in Tony's number, praying he would answer quickly.
   "Hello?"
   "T-Tony, I need your help, p-please."
   "I'm on my way kiddo, sit tight!"
   Out the door and across the yard in a flash, Tony moved like lightning,
racing to see what was wrong with his young charge. Bursting into the house
next door he headed straight for the stairs, ignoring the stunned stare from
Micky who was watching TV in the front room. Casting courtesy aside, he let
himself into the bedroom, rushing to Davy who sat rocking and clutching his
stomach. Pale and trembling, two distinct red patches stood out on his cheeks,
his breathing rapid - his pupils dilated wide.
   "What's wrong with him?" Micky asked, stepping through the doorway.
   "Withdrawals are kicking in - go down and get Mike - have him bring the
lockbox - now!"
   He turned back to Davy, wiping the sweat from his brow and attempting to get
him to make eye contact."
   "Okay kiddo, I'm here - I'vegot you Davy. Help is on the way, just hang in
there. Deep breaths alright?"
   "P-please Tony, I need a p-pill!"
   "Davy it's too early for that. I'm going to give you some adderall; it'll
calm your nerves till nine o'clock rolls around."
   "Here's the box," Mike said breathlessly, rushing onto the scene, "whatta
you need?"
   "Adderall - please, hurry!"
   "Right. Peter go down and get Tiny a glass of water babe!"
   "There's a glass in our bathroom," Micky suggested, "it's closer."
   "I'm on it Michael."
   "Amici I need you to bring me a cool wet rag, damp but not dripping."
   "You got it."
   "Here's the medicine," Mike said, shoving the bottle into Tony's waiting
hands.
   "Okay Davy here is the water kiddo. Swallow this for me."
   Verging on an anxiety attack Davy shook so violently he could barely hold
his drink. Steadying the glass, Tony helped him get some down his throat
without wearing most of it.
   "Washcloth," Micky said, kneeling beside his long-time friend, "how's he
doing,"
   "Not there yet, we just got an adderall in him."
   "Is there anything else I can do?"
   "Right now space, quiet and calm are the rule of thumb. One of you can stay,
but everyone else should probably go on downstairs. Thanks for being so on top
of this everyone."
   "Come on Cotton, let's go."
   "Thanks Mike, I really wanna stay with him."
   "Course you do shotgun. Holler if y'all need anything."
   "Looking better kiddo, how are you feeling?"
   "I c-c-cahn't d-do this."
   "Yes you can; its not going to be easy, but it will get easier as time goes
by. Deep cleansing breaths, just relax Davy."
   "I-it h-hurts!"
   "What hurts cookie?"
   "E-e-everything!"
   "The adderall should be working in a few minutes kiddo, just ride it out.
Another thirty minutes and you can have your pills."
   Managing to nod slightly Davy closed his eyes, the rocking slowing - his
breathing visibly smoother. Less shaky, he was able finally to sip some water
without assistance. A long deep breath, released with a sigh, informed Tony
that the worst of it was over.
   "You doing okay?"
   "I think s-so."
   "How about you take a shower, or a hot bath? It'll help you relax and pass
the time until nine o'clock. If you're feeling unsteady, I'm sure Micky would
be happy to assist."
   "A showah maybe?"
   "Come on little one; let's get you in the bathroom."
   "I don't 'ave any clothes ready."
   "I'll go home and get your meds and wait down in the kitchen, that way you
can get out and dress in here."
   "But 'ow will ya know when I'm finished?"
   "Micky can come get me."
   "Okay.”
   In the kitchen, Peter was making tea - his go-to solution for every crisis
situation. Lemon zinger - Davy's favorite - in a decaf blend with a hint of
lavender.
   "How is he?" He asked as Tony bustled through.
   "Not a hundred percent but much better. Micky is helping him get a shower,
then it should be about time to have his dose."
   "That won't be too much for him? With what he just swallered I mean."
   "Mike believe me, it's a drop in the bucket compared to what he's been
using. Worst-case scenario, he’ll sleep really well tonight. I'll be right
back; I have to get his meds."
   "Tony, I made a pot of Davy's favorite tea, is he able to come down and have
a cup with us?"
   "I'll think about it Peter, if nothing else I'll allow you to take him
some."
   "Okay, thanks man."

   Upon his return, Tony found everyone gathered around the kitchen table in a
huddle, seemingly in some sort of fuss. Nearing the kitchen he caught sight of
Davy in the middle of the hubbub - sitting at the table - his shirt covered in
blood.
   "Good grief - what happened?"
   "He didn't even make it into the shower and his nose started gushing like
old faithful! I brought him down here to get some help cuz it just wouldn't
stop."
   "Michael made an ice pack with a sandwich bag and had him tilt his head
back, it's finally slowing down."
   "Let's have a look kiddo."
   Micky removed the towel-wrapped ice pack from the bridge of Davy's nose so
Tony could get a better view. With his penlight, he examined the delicate nasal
passages looking for the cause.
   "Aha, that explains it."
   "Wha'?"
   "Snorting pills for these past few weeks has developed some chemical burns
inside your nose. The thin membrane finally gave way producing the rain of
blood you experienced."
   "I've seen that before," Peter said, "guy I met back in the village had a
hole in one side of his nose from sniffing different drugs. He ignored the
burning and nose bleeds until it was too late."
   "Yer joking!"
   "Dead serious man."
   "Great," Davy said in a stuffy-headed tone, "Dow wha'ab I gudda do?”
   "Well since you're only going to be taking the pills for a couple more days,
I guess you'll be swallowing them like everybody else."
   "Bloody lubly."
   "Since you're already down here, you may as well sit and have tea with us.
Peter was kind enough to make your lemon tea, so I'll concede to breaking your
punishment for just a little while."
   "Thanks, (sniffle) and that's bery thoughtful of you Petah, I appreciate
it."
   "You're welcome Davy; I'll get us all a cup now."
   "I left a message with Paul's answering service; I explained what happened
and have asked for an adjusted dosing schedule for the adderall. Hopefully if
we can get a regular alternating routine going, the withdrawals won't be quite
as horrendous."
   "It's 'elped a lot, but dot completely." (sniffle)
   "Here ya go Davy, lots of lemon and honey, and I added a little lavender oil
to soothe your nerves."
   "Oh tha' sounds wonderful, thank you. Wish I could sbell it."
   "Looks like your nose is ready to cooperate, the-"
   Tony was interrupted by his cell phone ringing shrilly in his pocket.
   "Excuse me," he said, stepping into the other room to take the call.
   "I gotta tell ya, you look a far sight better than ya did a while ago Tiny."
   "Wish I felt it, (sniffle) m'not as wired as I was but I still feel like
everything is all jumpy inside."
   "If you're feeling jittery, maybe you shouldn't be drinking the tea then
little one."
   "Come on, don't take tha' from me too!"
   "It's okay Micky," Peter intervened, "It's decaffeinated herbal tea, if
anything it should calm him down."
   "Oh thank God, it's the most wonderful thing I've 'ad in my mouth lately."
   "Hey!" Micky teased
   "Nutritionally speaking, don't get yer knickers in a knot."
   "Okay," Tony said, returning to the kitchen, "That was Paul."
   "Please tell me 'es giving me a higher dose?"
   "Not hardly, however he wants you to take the adderall every eight hours
until we get you on a sub. You'll get the next one at five o'clock, then every
eight hours after that."
   "When can I 'ave my percs?"
   "Right now, but from here on out they go down your throat."
   "Percs? What, are you like this big-time junkie who uses all the lingo now?"
   "Really Micky? I'd expect a crack li'e tha' from Mike maybe, but damn!"
   "I resemble that remark," Mike grinned, attempting to lighten the mood.
   "I'm sorry Davy, I really am. I'm just not handling this whole thing very
well I guess. I see you so different from this; it's just hard to take in."
   "I really need those pills man, 'fore I say anything stupid."
   "I realize how the dependency affects your mood Davy, but you're going to
have to put some effort into controlling those urges. Personal strength,
willpower and self control are going to play a huge role in working through the
recovery process."
   "I'm trying, I am - but it's not easy to just plaster on a perma-press smile
and be all 'appy! I didn't mean to get hooked on this crap n it's 'ard enough
facing everyonewithout the wise cracks."
   "Incidentally, when are you planning on telling your brother?"
   " ... I - I wasn't."
   "Would you want Nicky to keep something of this magnitude from you kiddo?"
   "Tony I'm already a huge disappointment to 'im, why would I wanna make it
worse?"
   "Davy, Nicky worships the ground you walk on - if anything he'd be worried
about you, not disappointed."
   "Peter's right, Nicky would be more upset if you kept him out of the loop on
this than by the news of it. Ya gotta tell him babe."
   "Can I PLEASE just take the bloody pills - I'll deal with this decision
laytah, right now I'm ready to lose me mahrbles!"
   "Here kiddo, take them now, one at a time."
   "Finally!"
   "And since you're feeling well enough to be argumentative, you can take your
tea and go back upstairs when you've taken them all."
   "Why, what'd I do wrong?"
   "Nothing Davy, but you are under restriction right now. I didn't fuss about
you being downstairs because you had a minor situation with your nosebleed, but
it's all over now and you're taking your meds. Time to get back to your room.
I've got to get a little sleep; I have to be back at two to give you the next
dose."
   "Why?" Mike asked, "I'm here, and I'll probably be awake till then anyway.
Isn't that why you bought the lockbox?"
   "It is, but Davy is my responsibility, I don't want to shove it off on
anyone else."
   "Well you're not, I volunteered. With the schedule for both pills man, if
somebody else doesn't help you'll never get any sleep! Besides, it'll give me a
chance to use those spiffy sign-out sheets you went to all the trouble of
making."
   "Alright," Tony sighed, "we'll put these in the lockbox, but we communicate
about this. I'm not going to have you missing your beauty sleep either Tex."
   "Lord knows we both need it."
   "I feel like an infant, everyone is taking a turn at my two am feeding."
   "I get to change his nappy," Micky grinned lecherously.
   "You're still here?" Tony asked with a grin, "get your tail upstairs before
I loosen your diaper and powder your behind."
   "I'm going, crikey!"
   "I'll be right behind you babe.'
   "Alright, couldja bring me a coke or something, I'm so thirsty."
   "Yep."
   "Good night Davy."
   "Night Petah, g'night everybody."
   "Night kiddo."
   "I'll see you at two Tiny."
***** Chapter 11 *****
   With Tony gone and everyone else in bed, Mike and Peter had the main part of
the house to themselves. Although Peter could have easily turned in and slept
like a baby, Mike had other plans: he was in the mood to dominate, and
naturally, Peter was willing to play along.
  Sprawled across the sofa, Mike was watching him play the guitar - something
that he thoroughly enjoyed - but a smoldering desire was burning behind his
dark eyes. His casual demeanor and fierce need to control even his own desires
played in his favor, masking the ravenous urges bubbling just beneath the cool
surface. Peter however knew; he always did. No matter how well Mike contained
himself, he couldn’t hide from his lover the mechanisms working behind his
sexy, steely eyes.
   So there he sat, barefoot and wearing the white shorts Mike could never
ignore, strumming his acoustic. An innocent gaze belying the bold display he
made of his hard-on, one knee bent at just the right angle for Mike's viewing
pleasure. As he finished his song he smiled up at his lover, his tongue grazing
his lower lip sensually in a gesture of mock nervousness. The simple action
nearly sent Mike into an open sweat.
   "That was nice."
   "Thank you Michael."
   "Put down the guitar Peter and come over here to me."
   The specifics of Mike's instructions were a detail Peter had long ago
learned to understand, a small misstep - an error in protocol - could bring
displeasure to those smoky eyes, and in turn take pleasure away from Peter's
end of their exploits. On hands and knees he moved to his expected place, on
the floor before the sofa where Mike was lounging. Silently he waited for more
instructions, anticipation honing the appetite in his groin. Reaching out to
stroke his cheek, his lover smiled, touching him in the most tender fashion.
   "My Cotton," he whispered, "my sweet, golden-haired one."
   Grabbing a handful of sandy hair, Mike drew him up, pressing a savage kiss
to his mouth. A rabid nip to Peter's lower lip gained him entry, their tongues
grappling for territorial rights.
   "Love that mouth," Mike drawled, releasing his grip, "put it to work why
don't you."
   "Yes Michael, whatever you want."
   Opening the striped robe Peter exposed the taut stomach of the lanky Texan,
lavishing breathy kisses across the smooth skin. A quick tug on his boxers was
enough encouragement to find him hoisting his slim hips into the air, Peter
easily sliding them below his knees to drop onto the floor.
Wasting no time in doing his lover's bidding, he quickly swallowed the pulsing
shaft, a grunt of approval coming from overhead. Ever the master of his own
desires Mike pressed his hand to the back of Peter's head, urging him into a
heady pace. Relentlessly he thrust upward into the eager mouth, burying his
cock in the moist channel that was his lover's clenching throat.
   "You love sucking my dick like a little whore, donchoo you dirty slut. SUCK
ME!"
   "Mmmm," Peter moaned, sending thrilling vibrations up Mike's shaft. Turned
on by the smutty abusive words, Peter took control. His back arching he bore
down on Mike's cock, slurping and licking like a madman, his skilled tongue
teasing the head with every frenzied stroke. The pleasure mounting Mike lay
moaning, his head thrashing from side to side. Clutching the sofa cushion a low
growl began gurgling up from deep within him. The muscles of his abdomen
lurching he cried out, his love nectar spilling down his partner's throat, his
body a shuddering, rigid, electrified mass.
   "Shit YES - FUCK BABE!"
   Slowing his pace, Peter suckled him - drawing out the ecstasy a moment
longer - swallowing his essence along with his seed. He laid his head on a
quivering thigh, gazing adoringly at the liquid remains of his domineering
lover who was now merely a panting puddle on the couch.
   "Damn Peter, I think you sucked out all my strength."
   "I love you Michael, I hope that pleased you."
   "Hung me out to dry shotgun! Now if I can only move, I'll take care of you."
   "You really don't have to; I can wait until next time."
   "You dadblame know better than to think I'd let you do something for me n
not even try to get you back. Come up here and sit with me."
   Easing into the crook of Mikes arm Peter lay half in his lap, staring into
the warmth of his lover's ever-changing eyes, an impish glint in their amber
glow.
   "Tell me what you want Cotton, anything at all, and I'll do it."
   "Just touch me Michael; you know I love it when you put your hands on me -
so strong and rough, yet tender."
   Positioning him spoon-style against him, Mike ran calloused fingertips
across the smooth skin of Peter’s upper body, eliciting an anticipatory groan
from his blond lover.
   "Let's get you outta these," he whispered silkily in his ear, pulling gently
on the drawstring of Peter's shorts.
   Happy to assist the bassist shinnied out of the fabric barrier separating
him from Michael's skilled and eager hands. Settling back against him, the heat
of so much bare flesh connecting sent excited chills through him, his erection
twitching in response.
   "Mmm, somebody is ready for me."
   "I need you so badly it hurts."
   "Well," Mike said between erotic kisses to his neck, "let's just do sumthin
bout that."
   Tracing the back of his fingers down the length of his torso Mike followed
the line of hair running down his abdomen into the wiry thatch of dark-blond
fuzz surrounding his enormous cock. With his thumb, he teased and probed the
sensitive tip, spreading the bead of moisture leaking from it in excited
anticipation. His eyes closed Peter moaned, the warm tingly sensation driving
him wild.
   Fumbling around in the semi-dark Mike located the tube of gel he had brought
out with him, squeezing a small dab into the palm of his hand. Gripping Peter's
huge pulsing shaft he began stroking him, slowly at first - twisting his wrist
to swirl his palm around the mushroom-shaped head.
   "Oh Michael, yes," Peter enthused, relishing the torturous teasing of his
hungry flesh.
   Quickening his pace he palmed him in a furious rhythm, kissing and nipping
at the smooth skin of his shoulder and pinching a hardened nipple with his free
hand. His passion building Peter thrashed about, his climax fighting to claim
him.
Arching his back, his body in a spasm of sheer bliss, Peter smashed his lips
against Mike's, crying out his release in his lover's open mouth in a
passionate kiss. Jerking hard on the spewing cock in his fist Mike drove Peter
beyond his brink, milking him to tears, his body shuddering in a silent plea
for mercy.
   "Oh Michael," he begged, as he twitched with ecstasy, "Please - let me
stop!"
   With three more relentless mind-blowing strokes, Mike released him, the
thrill of breaking him finally fulfilling his own need for control. Whimpering,
Peter turned, burying his face in his lover's chest. Hitching sobs shaking him,
he made a wet mess of the crinkly hair covering Mike’s upper body.
   "Cotton, babe are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
   "God no, that was incredible!"
   "Then why in the world are you crying?"
   "I can't help it; it felt so good that I just started to cry. That's never
happened to me before."
   "Felt TOO good did it?"
   "Yes, but I'd sell my right arm to feel that again."
   "You will Shotgun," Mike said, kissing the top of his head, "I guaran-damn-
tee it."
                                                                                     
*
  As the clock struck midnight Mike struggled to stay awake. Physically drained
from their escapades Peter was sound asleep in their bed and the silent house
was working on his sleep-heavy eyes.
          (C'mon Nesmith wake ya ass up)
   Splashing cold water on his face he wandered over to the coffee pot, pouring
his third cup in thirty minutes and spooning in a good deal of sugar for added
measure. Settling in front of the TV, he flipped through the channels searching
for something entertaining enough to hold him awake, landing on the classic
movie channel: It was 'Westerns Week' and tonight's featured movie was an old
favorite. By the first gunfight at high-noon, he was snoring like a monster.
   Upstairs Micky too was asleep with Davy beside him, the latter man moaning
softly in his troubled slumber. Shifting restlessly under the bedspread a thin
glistening sheen of sweat was forming on his forehead, his chocolate bangs
sticking in heavy damp strings. Beneath his eyelids, his eyes fluttered in a
wild dance as his right leg began to work in a kicking motion in tight, slow
flits to the side as if he were shaking off a charlie horse.
   Flinching twice Davy sucked in a gasping breath, eyes snapping wide he sat
bolt upright in bed. His chest heaving he stared around the room in a panic, as
if his surroundings were unfamiliar. Bounding from beneath the covers he came
to stand in the center of the room, clutching his stomach, a scowl of pain on
his ashen face. In a mad streak he dashed into the bathroom, bent in half,
still holding his middle. Dropping his pajama pants he plopped down onto the
toilet in the nick of time, his bowels exploding into the commode in a violent
liquid rush. Seconds later, he vomited into the trashcan, liquid now spewing
violently from both ends. Sweating profusely, he was taken by a sudden chill,
his entire frame quivering as if in great fear. Catching his breath he managed
to find his voice, strained and guttural but enough to meet the task.
   "Micky - please, help me!"
   Startled awake by the raspy shriek Micky jumped to his feet, racing to the
lighted bathroom and Davy's desperate cry.
   "Babe what's wrong, are you okay?"
   As if in answer another bout of retching overtook him, his stomach empty he
dry-heaved painfully over the acrid stench of the trash bin between his feet.
Acting on instinct, Micky hurried to wet a washcloth, squeezing the excess into
the basin beside his miserable lover. With gentle loving strokes, he wiped the
sweat-stained cheeks of the flushed, weakened young man slumping against his
thigh. Laying the cloth across the back of Davy's neck he wet a second one,
wiping the bile and vomit from his quickly dehydrating lips.
   "Water," Davy squeaked, "please."
   Turning again to the double sink he filled a cup with cool water, placing it
firmly in both of his little one's trembling hands. Taking a large sip Davy
rinsed his mouth, spitting into the soiled trash bag below. The second tiny sip
he swallowed, soothing his parched and aching throat.
   "Anything else I can get you babe?"
   "Need Tony, please!"
   "I'm afraid to leave you alone!"
   "I'm alright, but not fer long, please hurry."
   "Okay I'll try to call his cell phone, I'll be right in the bedroom - holler
if you need ANYTHING!"
   While alone Davy managed to clean himself up. Dressed again and seated on
the toilet lid, he was trembling violently when Micky returned.
   "He's on his way over - Dave are you cold?"
   "I'm n-not. J-just cahn't stop sh-shaking."
   "Can you get to the bed if I help hold you up? If not I can carry you."
   "M'n-not s-sure."
   Without hesitation, Micky scooped him up, one arm under his knees the other
wrapped firmly around his waist. With Davy's head resting against his chest, he
carried him into the bedroom laying him gently against the pillows. Dressed
only in cotton pajama pants, Tony came charging into the room, his brow
furrowed, concern in his eyes.
   "Hey kiddo, you look like crud. What happened?"
   "I w-woke up sweaty n c-confused, m-me stomach stahrted cramping and n-next
thing I know I'm p-puking n crappin’ all at once."
   "Are you hurting anywhere?" He asked, checking his forehead for fever.
   "N-no sir."
   "Any other symptoms?"
   "No, n-nothing."
   "Are you cold Davy?"
   "No, just sh-shaky. W-wha's 'appening to me Tony?"
   "It's the withdrawals kiddo; your body is basically flipping out because it
isn't getting what it wants. Can you stomach anything you think?"
   "I d-dunno,"
   "Mick, would you please run down to the kitchen and bring back some saltine
crackers and a glass?"
   "Sure, be right back."
   "Is it t-time yet, fer my pills?"
   "I'm sorry Davy; you’ve got more than an hour to go yet. Let's get you
covered up, see if it doesn't help a little."
   Tucking the sheet and blanket snugly around him Tony swaddled Davy like an
infant, wrapping him up in a safe, warm cocoon. Propped up on a stack of fluffy
pillows he looked like a mummy on display at a natural history museum. Micky
came in with the crackers and a tall glass handing both to Tony. Retrieving a
silver flask from his pocket, he filled the glass with a deep red wine, the
heady aroma wafting through the air.
   "Here Davy," he said, lifting the glass to his lips, "sip this kiddo, it
should help calm your nerves."
   Taking a deep drink of the Burgundy Davy swallowed the smooth ferment with
closed eyes, relishing the flavor of the perfectly aged vintage.
   "Good, that will help with your nausea some as well. Let's try a couple of
saltines, not good to imbibe on an empty stomach."
   His entire body still bound inside the makeshift bunting, Davy accepted the
hand-feeding from Tony, a strange feeling he hadn't experienced since he was a
small child. Eagerly taking in several of the salty squares, he felt immediate
relief for the empty pit that was his aching belly.
   As the crackers and wine disappeared, the anxiety and trembling did as well.
Gradually Davy's eyes began to close, until blessedly he drifted back to sleep.
Tiptoeing from the room Micky and Tony slipped quietly downstairs to the
kitchen, making good use of the remains of Mike's pot of coffee. They sat
sipping the strong, thick brew in silence, each lost in his own thoughts of
what had taken place. Finally, Micky interrupted the retreat.
   "Did you know it was gonna be like this?"
   "While I couldn't have listed specifics, I knew what it would be like, yes."
   "Yet you still volunteered to help him do this at home. Why?"
   "Simply put, I love him. Just as much and in the same way that I love my
Nicholas, I care about Davy and his needs. He begged me to keep him in an
outpatient setting if at all possible, and unless it's absolutely necessary I
intend to do just that."
   "Do you think it'll be easier for him when he gets the substitute?"
   "Perhaps. It may be like it is now - it may get worse. Right now I'll be
happy to get him through the weekend."
   "What're you doing here Tony?" A sleepy-voiced Mike asked.
   "Ring out the bells, sleeping beauty waketh!" Tony teased.
   "Davy had a bad spell; withdrawals got him a little bit ago. I had to call
Tone over here to help calm him down."
   "Damn. He alright?"
   "We got him back to sleep but it's likely to be a rough weekend. He's not
handling the deprivation well at all."
   "What made you think to give him the wine?"
   "Easy, it's the Italian national cure-all - we use it to treat everything. I
knew it would settle his stomach, and its calming effects are a given."
   "It's almost two o'clock man, if you wanna go home and get some sleep I'll
see to it that Tiny gets his pills."
   "I appreciate that Mike, but believe me - I’m up for the duration.”
   "Man you cain't have had more n three hours of sleep, how you gonna make it
through the day like'at?"
   "Not a problem Mike, I've always done well on three to five hours a night. I
have to be here at five and seven o'clock again anyway, so there's no sense in
my going back to bed."
   "Well, if you're sure. Reckon I'm gonna go on to bed myself then. Night
y'all."
   "Night man."
   "Mike, before you go, I'll need the lockbox."
   "Oh right, I'll go fetch it."
   "You may as well get some more rest too amici, I can manage on my own."
   "Are you kidding, I'm already half way there. Night Tony."
   "Goodnight, holler if you need me."
   "Here's the box," Mike said, shuffling sleepily into the kitchen, "you're
sure you got this?"
   "Piece of cake. Mind if I camp out here for a bit?"
   "Be my guest, you know where most everything is."
   "I'll manage, thanks. Goodnight Mike."
                                                                                     
*
   With forty-five minutes to go before Davy's meds were due, Tony busied
himself in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee his first order of business.
   When the java was brewing he scoured the cupboards looking for ingredients
to put together a nice breakfast. Lining up most of what he needed he made a
list of things to gather from his own pantry. After a quick trip next door, he
was prepared to make a fabulous meal: Ham steaks, eggs, buttermilk pancakes
with fresh strawberries and garlicky fried potatoes.
   Sitting at the table with his coffee Tony set about the task of dicing the
potatoes, chopping in bits of fresh garlic and onion as he went. Relaxed as he
always was when cooking, he was totally unprepared for the shrill scream coming
from upstairs. Jarred by the startling sound he nearly sliced his fingertip
into the potatoes.
   Dropping the knife he ran for the staircase, smacking straight into Mike at
the bottom of the steps, a wide-eyed Peter at his side.
   "Go on," Mike shouted, "we're right behind you!"
   Dashing up the stairs the three men burst into the bedroom to witness a
heartbreaking scene:
        Standing in the corner his eyes glazed and wide Davy was in an agitated
panic, frantically swiping at his arms, legs and face.
   "HELP ME!" He shouted, "I cahn't get 'em orf of me!"
   Several feet away Micky sat on the floor, a stunned expression on his face,
blood trickling from his swollen lips.
   "Mike," Tony directed in a commanding tone, "run next door and get my first-
aid kit, it's in the kitchen cabinet above the refrigerator - quickly!"
   Turning his attention to Micky, he made a quick assessment, along with a few
direct questions.
   "How bad are you hurt? "
   "Not bad, I think it's just a busted lip."
   "How did it happen?"
   "He woke up screaming something about bugs crawling on him. He was smacking
and swiping at himself and accidentally hit me in the mouth."
   "Peter I need a cold wet washcloth for Micky, now please."
   On his feet, he turned to the frantic young man still flailing at invisible
insects. Lost in his hallucination Davy was completely unaware of his presence,
too busy battling the wretched nightmare of his mind's response to the lack of
opiates. Breathless, Mike stumbled into the room; cheeks flushed red, his chest
heaving with the exertion of running so quickly between the two houses.
   "Here," he panted, "brought .. the lockbox .. too."
   "Good thinking, thank you."
   Working quickly Tony fished out a syringe and needle, filling it halfway
from a small bottle. Tapping the plastic tube to squeeze out the air bubbles,
he stepped up to Davy and without hesitating, pinned him neatly to the wall,
plunging the needle into his left arm. With a dazed expression, he slipped to
his knees, Tony guiding him gently to the floor. Collapsing against the
bathroom door, he closed his eyes and fell into oblivion.
   Once again turning to Micky, he checked the injury for size and depth:
Luckily, it wouldn't need stitches. Applying an antiseptic, he cleaned the
split skin, patting it dry with a sterile gauze pad. Two quick spritzes of
liquid bandage and he pronounced him on the mend, warning him off from straws
and other sucking activities for the time being.
   With Peter's assistance, Mike and Micky gently laid Davy in bed, propped up
on a stack of pillows and covered up to his chin. Stressed and weary, the four
men retreated to the kitchen table to commiserate over coffee and tea.
   "By God," Mike declared, "I've never seen anything like that in my life!"
   "Me neither," Micky admitted.
   "I have."
   Turning to Peter in surprise, they gaped at him, waiting for him to go on.
   "Guy I knew in the village had a huge cocaine habit, if he didn't get his
fix he'd think there were huge bugs crawling all over his skin."
   "It can come with any type of withdrawal," Tony chimed in, "but they're
generally referred to as coke bugs."
   "So he really saw them? Felt them even?"
   "Unfortunately Micky to Davy they were very real."
   "What did you knock him out with?"
   "Lorazepam, same as before. A small enough dose that he can still have his
meds when he wakes up, but enough to solve the problem."
   "What's with all the food?"
   "I was hoping to surprise everyone with breakfast.. I'll still make it of
course, though the excitement is gone from it."
   "Tony," Mike spoke up, "do you honestly think it's a smart move trying to
handle drying Tiny out here at home? I'm not sure we're all up to the
challenge."
   "I know this much Mike, I promised him a chance to do this on an outpatient
basis and I intend to deliver. As long as he sticks to the program, I at least
am in this for the long haul."
   "I am too; I just hope we haven't bit off too much to swaller."
   "How long do you think he'll be passed out?"
   "Could be anywhere from three to five hours, it really depends on the level
of his anxiety. I don't expect to hear a peep out of him before five o'clock."
   "In that case, I'm going back to bed. C'mon Peter, let's get some sleep."
   "Good night again you guys."
   "See you in the morning."
   "You should go back to sleep as well Micky, no point in both of us staying
awake. Besides, I'd feel a lot better knowing Davy wasn't alone right now."
   "Okay, I'll see you later Tone."
***** Chapter 12 *****
   Shortly after seven heavenly scents drew everyone out of bed and into the
kitchen - everyone that is but Davy who was still sound asleep.
  "You guys help yourselves to breakfast, there's plenty to go around. I'm
going to try and rouse Davy. I'm concerned that he's still out of it."
   "You want me to come with you?"
   "No amici, stay down here. If I need anyone you're all just a shout away."
   Easing open the bedroom door Tony peeked inside. Much in the same position
they'd laid him Davy lay sleeping, his face serene, his chest rising and
falling with the rhythmic patterns of one breathing in a deep slumber.
   Sitting on the edge of the bed Tony paused a moment to gaze at the sweet
innocence of the youthful face before him. Looking so like a fabricated angel
on an artist’s canvas, the plump rosy cheeks belied the chaos raging within the
slender body they so perfectly graced.
   Brushing a few stray bangs away from his eyes Tony sighed, wishing again
that he could turn back time just enough to undo this nightmare. Gently, so he
didn't startle him, he shook the leanly muscled shoulder of the dark-haired boy
he so adored.
   "Davy, hey kiddo."
   Coming easily awake Davy fluttered his eyelids open, gazing up at him with a
curious grin.
   "Tony? Is it two o'clock already?"
   "Actually kiddo it's almost seven-thirty, and there's fresh coffee and a
fabulous breakfast downstairs with your name on it."
   "Seven-thirty? How did that 'appen? Wha' about my pills?"
   "I have them right here, if you'll sit up a bit I'll get you some water from
the bathroom."
   "Oh, okay."
   Situating himself in the bed Davy stretched in a feline posture, shaking off
the remnants of the night's rest. When Tony came back from the bathroom, he was
sitting on the side of the bed.
   "Here you go Davy."
   "Tony, did anything.. stupid.. 'appen lahst night?"
   "Why do you ask?"
   "I seem to recall the strangest thing, a dream maybe, but it feelsso real.
That and the fact that my arm is sore as hell."
   "Take your meds and we'll talk about it over breakfast, okay?"
   "So something did 'appen."
   "You had a bit of a moment, yes. It was resolved quickly and nobody went to
the hospital, so don't over-think it."
   "I wanna know what I did."
   "I'll tell you everything Davy, there's no reason for me to hide the truth
from you. However, you're way overdue for your pills and you need to get some
food into you to take them. Okay?"
   Nodding agreement Davy sighed, downing his pills and mustering all the
patience he could scrape together. A quick trip to the little boy’s room and
they headed down to join the others at the table.
   "Heyy, look who's up! Mornin babe."
   "G'mornin - what thehell?"
   " ... What?"
   "Please tell me I didn't 'ave anythin' to do with that mess on yer lip!"
   "Coffee kiddo?"
   "Bloody hell, I did."
   "Sit down Davy and eat. I already said I'd explain everything, food first."
   "It's not a big deal cookie; you were asleep when it happened."
   "Micky please, he needs to eat first."
   "I'm just saying, he's really upset."
   "Fine, you've said - now on to another topic if you will."
   "The pancakes are homemade aren't they?"
   "Absolutely Peter, it's the only way I make them."
   "They're delicious!"
   "They look light as a cloud."
   "Oh they are Davy!" Peter enthused.
   "I guess I am hungry, n everything looks s'wonderful!"
   "Fill up your plate Davy," Tony smiled,
   "I'm getting a refill, what would you like to drink?"
   "Coffee would be great, thanks."
   "Wow!" Micky raved, "What'd you do to the orange juice?"
   "You like?"
   "Like doesn't cover it!"
   "I pureed a banana and four strawberries and blended them into it. The
potassium is very good for Davy right now, and well, personally I love the
flavor combination."
   "Is there enough fer me?"
   "There's enough for you and twenty or so of your friends kiddo," Tony
laughed, "You know me, I still cook like I'm feeding a big Italian family."
   "Won't ever hear a complaint from me 'bout that," Mike assured him.
   "Aren't you gonna eat too man?"
   "Oh yes, never fear Peter, I've simply gotten sidetracked. Here you go Davy,
coffee and juice."
   "Thank you, and Petah’s right - the pancakes are perfect!"
   "Thank you, I'm happy everyone is enjoying breakfast!"
   "Ham n taters are a Texas staple at the breakfast table, makes me feel right
at home."
   "Happy to hear that Mike."
   "I'm digging the fresh berries," Peter grinned.
   "I'm digging all of it!" Micky countered.
   "You fellas talk too much," Davy pronounced, "I'm digging in."
   "You know what I'm digging?" Tony smiled.
   "What?"
   "Huh?"
   "Wha's that?"
   "You guys get to do the dishes."
   "I broke my hand," Davy grinned.
   "Arthritis," Micky claimed, shaping his hand into a claw.
   "I have to go see a man about a dog!" Mike insisted.
   Turning to their blond roommate who was busy shoveling in the last of his
pancakes they spoke in unison:
   "Peter."
   "Somehow this always happens to me."
   "So," Davy said between bites, "I'm eating breakfast. Tell me about my
night."
   "I'll do that, if you promise me you'll clean your plate, I don't want you
getting upset and losing your appetite."
   "Is it that bad?"
  "It was a typical response to a lack of opiates in your system Davy, but I'm
relatively sure you're going to see it a lot differently. Try to take it with a
grain of salt, okay?"
   "I'll do me best."
   Doing all he could to keep eating, Davy listened to Tony and the others as
they detailed the events of the early morning hours. Staring into his plate his
normally bright eyes took on a dark and troubled cast, their brown hue
deepening into a black void filled with intense pain. He asked no questions,
nodding only a few times to indicate he was still listening.    Somehow, he
managed to mechanically lift his fork, repeatedly sticking nameless bits of
food in his mouth to mash and swallow without really tasting it. When the
telling was through, he ever so properly wiped the corners of his mouth,
dabbing them primly with his napkin. Pushing aside the now-cold cup of coffee,
he folded his hands in front of his lips, a single finger touching the tip of
his nose.
   "When is my next adderall due?" He asked timidly.
   "Not for about three hours Davy, right around ten-thirty."
   A brief nod.
   "May I be excused? I think I'd like to lie down fer a bit."
   "Sure Davy, someone will bring you your medicine when it's time."
   Without another word Davy stood, clearing his breakfast dishes to the
kitchen sink. His juice in hand he turned for the stairs and silently left the
room.
   "Give him some space," Tony said softly, "he just needs to absorb the
reality of his situation. It's certainly humiliating to him, though over time
he'll come to understand that all of us still see him as the same lovable old
Davy."

   As he'd requested Davy went to his room and slept until noon, when Tony came
to get him for lunch. For most of the next two days he played hermit, choosing
to keep to himself upstairs, spending the majority of his time on the balcony
soaking up the sun. He ate very little, and only ate what he did at the threat
of not receiving any of the percocet that was squirreled away under lock and
key - Tony's only resource for keeping him fed. Sleeping a great deal he was
slipping into a deep despair, a self-loathing depression had taken hold that
even Micky couldn't seem to break through.
   Monday morning could not have arrived soon enough for Tony, concerned that
his young ward was rapidly slipping beyond his reach. Skipping the physical
therapy session, he made arrangements to take Davy in to Dr. Scott’s office an
hour ahead of schedule. Anxious about his patient’s rapid deterioration, Paul
took them back right away.
   "Hello David, you look rough. How are you?"
   "Aside from giving out fat lips and being the local freak show I'm doing
great."
   "I heard you've had a really tough weekend. Congratulations, you survived it
and managed to remain a private citizen, not an easy feat."
   "It’s easy if you lock yerself in yer bedroom.. cahn't exactly let the beast
roam free, might frighten beauty away."
   "The withdrawals are hell, I know. We're going to change that today, but
let's talk a bit first. On a scale of one to ten, what's your anxiety level
like today?"
   "Twenty-seven."
   "My math classes were different back in the stone age; does that come before
or after five?"
   In spite of his fear that it would hurt like hell and break his face, Davy
cracked a tiny grin.
   "Hey now," Paul teased, "we can't have any smiling, it makes misery a
difficult task."
   "Does everyone going through recovery feel like they're from another
planet?"
   "Ahh humor! Best defense against the whole big headache we call life! To
answer your question, absolutely. Davy there will probably be times when you
wish you were, think you are, and feel like you're on one. What you have to
remember is this - and I'm going to throw your own words at you; the ones
you’re feeling humiliated in front of right now - the people you call family?
They're witnessing everything because they're on top of you twenty-four-seven..
you couldn't pay to skin your knee they're so over-protective."
   ".. And I shouldn't feel embarrassed because they love me anyway, right?"
   "I do love a quick learner. How are the cravings?"
   "Huh," he laughed sarcastically, "evenyou look like a giant Percocet."
   "Itching? Sweating? Nervous twitches?"
   "Yes, ringing in my ears, cramps, trots n I'm puking up half of what I eat."
   "Tell me something positive that happened since the last time we met."
   "Yerjoking."
   "I'll give you one, you give me one back. You woke up this morning."
   "Yer impossible. Okay, I 'ad great sex Friday night."
   "There you go, sounds like a positive to me. I'm going to make some
adjustments to your meds, why don't we bring Tony in here, I'll write this up
and explain it to you both."
   "Sure."
   "Frances," Paul spoke into the intercom, "would you send Mr. Martinelli in
please?"
   Tony stepped inside and took a seat beside Davy.
   "We're just about finished, but I wanted to explain to you both the med
changes I'm going to make."
   "Alright."
   "First off I'll be starting you on Suboxone Davy; it's a non habit-forming
substitute for the opiate pain medications you're addicted to. It's time-
released and as I'm giving you the maximum strength, you'll take one every
twelve hours. I'm changing the adderall to a time release also, and I'd like
you to take it every eight hours beginning four hours after your morning dose
of sub."
   "What if I don't feel anxious or nervous?"
   "Take them anyway, skipping a dose may lead to an unnecessary panic attack,
and we can taper it later on as things calm down. I want to give you a
prescription for the nausea, but I'm concerned that you'll just puke it back
up. How do you feel about suppositories?"
   "Erm…”
   "Really Davy," Tony grinned, "with your alternative lifestyle you're going
to object to a tiny waxy bullet up your-"
   "That'll be fine doc," Davy mumbled, glaring at Tony, red-faced.
   "Alrighty," Paul chuckled, "we'll go with phenergan, it's the most effective
with very little chance of side effects. Every eight hours as needed but try to
fit it in halfway between the adderall, it can cause drowsiness."
    "How long does it take for the sub to start working?"
   "He'll notice the full effects in a couple of days, some people experience
symptom relief within twenty-four hours. Absolutely no more pain medication,
period. Understand?"
   "Yessir, I got it."
   "I'll see you Wednesday morning same time. You have my emergency number if
you need it."
  Stopping at the pharmacy on the way home, they filled the new prescriptions,
the brief ride being uncomfortably quiet. Staring pensively out the window Davy
chewed nervously on his lower lip, his mind seemingly everywhere but in the
car. Reaching in his front pocket as they made their way home, Tony handed him
a dollar bill.
   "Wha's this?"
   "Penny for your thoughts."
   "This is a single notta penny."
   "Well it seems you're drifting in a barrage of them so I figured I'd get my
money's worth."
   "I dunno," Davy sighed, "they're going in s'many directions I've lost
track.. 'ope, fear, resolve, shame and outright panic fer stahrtahs."
   "Sounds about right. Try to remember that you're not in this alone Davy. You
can talk to any of us, we all want to help."
   "I'm scared Tony, scared that the sub isn't gonna do it fer me. The things
I've been going through with the reduced dosage have been pure hell, I cahn't
imagine what I'm gonna feel with no pills at'all."
   "Don't look for the worst case scenario kiddo it'll walk up and slap you in
the face if you do. Give the sub a chance to get into your system and see how
things go."
   "I know yer right, but my body, brain and sense of logic aren't currently on
speaking terms so it isn't holding a lotta ground. I'm more worried about what
the fellas are thinking of me than the pain to be honest, nothing like 'aving a
live-in side-show to keep things entertaining."
   Jamming on the brake pedal Tony stopped the car in the middle of the road,
much to the aggravation of the driver behind him.
   "Listen up and do it well," Tony nearly shouted. "I'm not running a circus
and there are no freaks, oddities or jaw-dropping attractions to behold among
us. Granted this is new territory for most of us and some of what's happening
has been a bit of a shock. However, none of us sees you as anything but the
same Davy we all know going through the paces of recovering from a drug
addiction. No more talk about side shows and freaks!"
   The passionate spiel was both touching and eye opening to Davy, as Tony
seldom raised his voice it was clear that he was sincere with his vehement
words. The veil of shame and self-pity that Davy had been hiding behind was
ripped away, and in the light of day he saw clearly that Tony was speaking the
truth.
   "I .. I'm sorry. It's humiliating to know that I've done such bizarre things
and everyone has seen it. I guess I'm more embarrassed than anything. I know
deep down that you guys don't think I'm a freak."
   "You're not, and nobody thinks of these things in that way. Concern, sadness
- perhaps the discomfort of not knowing what to say to you about the situation
- but no judgment and no laughter."
   Eyes locked to one another's they spoke silently, a mutual understanding of
the depth of each other’s feelings, the perspective of the other's point of
view. A tenuous smile crept across the younger man's lips, contagiously
spreading to Tony's face.
   "Alright kiddo," Tony said, slipping the transmission into gear, "let's go
home."
  Tony's first order of business was to pocket the remainder of Davy's
narcotics and replace them with his new medications in the lockbox. The
original prescription for adderall would be disposed of, seeing no potential
need for keeping it around.
   "Okay Davy, this first day will be a tad off since we're starting out a few
hours late, but we'll have everything on track by eight o'clock tonight. To get
you started, I'm giving you your sub and one of the nausea um.. meds. At two
pm, you will take the first time-released adderall and I'll have a time sheet
over here by then for all of your scheduled doses. I'm going to remind the
three of you - whoever gives him his meds WILL sign the sheet, with the date
and time - or he's going home with me! No exceptions - no excuses."
   "Erm, Tony?"
   "What is it Davy?"
   "Do they 'ave to.. administer all of my meds?"
   Throwing his head back with an uproarious laugh Tony was beside himself in a
fit of humor.
   "It can be given to you to administer to yourself if you can manage that,
though I imagine Micky could be of service in that capacity."
   "I'm not following this," Mike said, a confused look plastered to his face,
"I thought he wudn't supposed to handle his own pills?"
   Planting his face in his hands, Davy hid himself from the ensuing
conversation. With a broad grin Tony clapped a hand firmly on the back of his
neck, enjoying the bit of fun he was about to have at Davy's expense.
   "Well Mike, if it concerns you that much I'm sure we could BREACH the topic
in some way, I wouldn't want to fall BEHIND in my responsibilities after all.
I'd be a perfect ASSHOLE if I did, right Davy?"
   Now thoroughly perplexed and catching the undercurrent of humor in Tony's
dialogue, Mike dove in with a curious grin, eager to be a party to whatever had
Davy turning seven shades of scarlet.
   "Alright, whatever it is you're tryin so hard to annoy ol' Tiny here with,
spill it. I wanna have some fun too."
   "How bout we just play show and tell," Tony said, prying Davy's hands away
from his face. What do you say kiddo, first grade revisited?"
   "You people areevil, d'ya know that?"
   "Do you want the honors or shall I?"
   "Is this REALLY necessary?"
   Grinning like an idiot Micky was now hooked as well, dying to know what Davy
was so eager to keep under wraps.
   "What could possibly be that embarrassing about taking some medicine?"
   "Did they give it to you in a lollipop or something?" Peter asked?"
   "Or maybe those little pink chewable tablets they give to little kids,"
Micky teased.
   "Oh I'm sure he would be ecstatic in either case," Tony laughed.
   Narrowing his eyes Mike surveyed Davy with growing suspicions, rehashing in
his mind all that had been said. With sudden clarity, his eyes grew large and
he burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, head thrown back, hand cracking
sharply against his thigh.
   "Don't 'urt yerself there Mike," Davy said with a sarcastic grin, "karma is
on a turntable and eventually it comes round to all of us."
   "I don't get it," Micky frowned.
   "Me neither," Peter followed.
   "Eeee-he-he-he!" Mike cackled, attempting to gain enough control to speak,
"oh my lands," he shrieked, tears of laughter pouring down his face. "They gave
him suppositories!"
   "What are those?" Peter asked.
   "Its medicine packed in a little waxy bullet-shaped cylinder. It melts when
it gets warm and absorbs into the skin!"
   "Why is that so funny?"
   "Be-because ha-ha-ha, they stick em EEEHEHEHE up your ASS to get em to
melt!"
   Having chosen precisely the wrong moment to reveal this tidbit of
information to his uninformed lover, Mike inadvertently earned himself an
impromptu shower. Nearly choking on the coffee he was about to swallow, the
surprising revelation gave Peter cause to spray coffee across the table in
Mike's direction, thoroughly soaking his face and shirt. Watching the tan beads
drip from the Texans nose and chin, Davy was now the one caught in a rib-
splitting fit of laughter that had him rolling around on the floor clutching
his stomach.
   "Umm.. sorry Michael," Peter grinned, "I'll get you a towel."
   "Oh that was PERfect," Davy clucked from the carpet, "tha's wha' I call
instant karma!"
   "Laugh it up shotgun," Mike teased with an easy smile, "remember who's in
charge of seeing that you TAKE your medicine around here!"
   "Erm.. love you man."
   "I'm sure you do Tiny, just keep suckin up there partner n MAYBE I'll letcha
off the hook."
   "Micky - 'elp me!"
   "I dunno Davy, could be kinda hot."
   "Thanks a lot; I'll manage on my own."
   "Oh me," Tony smiled, finally gaining some control, "I tell you I've never
laughed so much as I have since we've all come together. At any rate, you need
to take your meds Davy before it gets any later. Then I was thinking lunch in
town, all of us. My treat."
   "Sounds good to me, I'm stahrving."
   "Take the pill kiddo."
   Eager to get some lunch Davy obediently took the medication, washing it down
with a few sips of water.
   "All gone, can we go now?"
   "Not just yet, there's one more dose for you to take."
   The boys attempt to control their snickering was pointless. Even had they
managed to keep silent the three sets of twitching lips struggling not to break
into identical grins were a dead giveaway. It would be some time before they
let him live this one down.
   "Alright fellas, let it out. Yer all gonna 'ave bloody strokes fighting orf
the giggles."
   "Here you go kiddo," Tony grinned, handing him a foil-wrapped, bullet-shaped
packet, "onward and upward - and do pardon the pun."
   Rolling his eyes Davy snatched the detested projectile from his outstretched
hand. On his feet before the jeering could begin, he plodded up the steps like
a pouty child, stomping his feet and muttering under his breath.
   "You need a hand with that?" Micky called, an impish gleam in his eyes.
   "Doubt it, but don't go anywhere."
   Disappearing into his room everyone collectively held their breath waiting
for any hilarity to ensue. Moments later, they were not disappointed.
   "MICKY - COME UP 'ERE PLEASE!"
   Smiling lasciviously Micky rose, rubbing his hands together like the evil
genius in a mediaeval tale preparing to do some wickedness to the village
virgin.
   "Muahahahahahaha!" He uttered, taking the stairs two at a time eager to
reach his destination.
   "If you're not back in five minutes," Tony warned, "we're leaving without
you two!"
   "I'll be finished in four," he giggled in reply.
   "I can see this becoming an issue with those two; though I can't say I'd
fault Micky for turning it into a pleasure trip."
   Grinning like a proud new father Mike beamed at Tony.
   "Shotgun, I like you more and more every time you open your mouth. Damn if I
don't feel like a proud father right now."
   "Nice to know I have a fan club. Someday we'll compare notes Tex, I'm fairly
certain that we have a lot in common."
   Before Mike could reply Davy came tramping downstairs, a deep scowl etched
into his handsome face. Not far behind him, Micky was trotting to catch up, an
amused smile plastered to his kisser.
   "Aww c'mon little one I said I was sorry, don't be such a spoilsport."
   Stopping quite suddenly and turning to face his degenerate boyfriend, they
nearly collided.
   "We're going to stop at the drug store on the way back 'ere, n I'm buying a
box of suppositories - I don't care what they're for - and we're gonna recreate
that moment upstairs with YOU on yer knees. Then maybe we can talk apologies
and socio-critical pet names."
   "I take it you got it where it belonged?" Tony couldn't resist.
   "Oh, and then some," Davy ranted, "If I stick out my tongue you could pull
it out through my mouth!"
   Crossing his arms over his chest in mock indignance, Davy stifled a grin as
the laughter rang out once again. Waiting for everyone to get it out of their
systems he squirmed, the squishy mass dissolving in his backside becoming quite
uncomfortable.
   "Are ya's finished? I'd like to eat some lunch before dinnah time."
   "Okay, let's get it together guys. How about that seafood restaurant down on
the boardwalk?"
   "I'm there!" Micky enthused.
   "Sounds good to me shotgun."
   "You know I love seafood, no arguments 'ere."
   "Michael, can we ride the carousel after we eat?"
   "Whatever you want Cotton, come on babe."
                                                                                     
*
   Later that night Davy reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed Nicky's
number. Dreading the conversation, he chewed nervously at his lower lip, hoping
deep inside that his older brother was somehow unavailable; Nicky picked up on
the third ring.
   "Hello?"
   "Nicky, hi."
   "Hey little bro, so good to hear your voice! Funny, I was just bragging
about you this afternoon."
   "Oh really?" Davy said, his heart sinking.
   "Yaa this loudmouth in my class was going on about his kid brother and how
he's waiting tables in a restaurant where he has to sing to the customers.
Always shooting his mouth off about how great he is and all. I was so over
hearing it for the hundredth time so I casually mentioned that you were a
singer in a rock band. I made sure everyone understood just how talented you
are and by the time lunch was over, he just skulked away with his hands shoved
in his pockets. Shut him up but good!"
   "Possible that you spoke up too soon bubba."
   "What do you mean?"
   "Nicky there's something I 'ave to tell you, something that's probably gonna
let you down or make you angry. Maybe even both."
   "Whatever it is bubba it can't be that bad. Besides, I could never be
disappointed in you."
   "M'not so sure about that, I really messed up with this one."
   "Talk to me Davy, maybe I can help."
   "Nicky, I've got a problem …"
   Through many tears and much humiliation, Davy laid out the whole sordid
story to him. With patience and love, Nicky listened as bit by bit he poured
his heart out, describing the nightmare of his addiction and recovery process.
   "I'm so sorry Bubba, Inevah meant fer this to 'appen, pleasesay you still
love me."
   "Of course I love you Davy - nothing will ever change that! The important
thing is that you're taking the right steps to do something about it. Do you
want me to come home? I can be there in a couple of hours."
   "No no! Tony and the guys are doing everything to 'elp me through this, you
stay at school and keep at yer studies. I - Nicky I just needed to know that
you're not gonna turn away from me."
   "Never Davy, you can't get rid of me no matter what you do. I love you bubba
and making a mistake isn't going to change that."
   They spoke briefly of other things, catching up on each other's lives and
sharing a few laughs. Finally, with a lightened heart, Davy bid his brother
good night.
***** Chapter 13 *****
   The next several days were difficult at best, the nightmare of withdrawal
taking a fierce hold on Davy, body and spirit. Tremors, headaches, itching,
cold sweats, nausea and vomiting kept him weak and miserable, to say nothing of
his irritability. More than once Micky and Tony had to intervene, to prevent
Mike from pounding his five foot one inch frame into the floor. Some precisely
placed duct-tape over a certain British mouth would have solved the problem,
but let's face it: there were laws against that sort of solution.
   The hallucinations came and went and with them the anxiety that led to full-
on panic attacks. Unwilling to add to the list of sedating medications, Paul
insisted he ride out this most difficult leg of recovery without the aid of
anti-psychotic drugs.
        And ride he did, like a greenhorn on an unbroken steed.
   Between the hectic medication schedule and Davy's late-night bouts of
vomiting and anxiety, nobody was getting much sleep. Exhausted and cranky,
squabbling and unrest had taken over the previously friendly natures of
everyone involved.
With very little appetite, Davy was not eating well at all - and the little
that he managed to keep down wasn’t enough to sustain a hummingbird. Tired and
not feeling sociable he took to his room, spending most of his time alone
either pacing, sleeping or hovering over the toilet bowl.
   Thursday afternoon Tony came to check in on Davy, bringing his two o'clock
meds and hoping to lure him out if his room for a while. Knocking lightly, he
gained permission to enter the private sanctuary.
   "Hey there kiddo, brought up your meds and a coke. How are you today?"
   "Hey Tony, thanks. M'alright."
   "You look a little peaked, have you eaten anything yet?"
   "Petah brought me some tea and toast this morning. I ate pahrt of it."
   "How 'bout you get dressed and we all go down to the beach for a while,
we'll pack a picnic and just hang out for the day, get some sun?"
   "I dunno, I'd rather just stay 'ere."
   "Come on Davy, everybody misses you. Just come for a bit and if you want to
go back inside in say an hour, I'll leave you be."
   "Huh," he snorted, "I find it 'ard to believe Mike is missing me."
   "Mike adores you; the two of you just knock heads a lot. You're a lot alike
you two."
   "That's not exactly an ego boost."
   "Be that as it may, I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll be downstairs
making lunch; I expect to see you within ten minutes."
   Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left the room. Ten minutes later
- in swim trunks and bare feet, Davy stood in the kitchen eyeballing the
profuse lunch crammed into the wooden picnic basket.
   "Looks great, smashing job Tony as always."
   "Thank you. Nice to see you back among the living."
   "Where's everybody else?"
   "Micky is in the bathroom, Mike and Peter are in their room - everyone is
changing for the beach."
   "Oh. What about you?"
   "I'm already to go. Got my trunks on under my pants."
   "So yer just gonna drop yer pants out on the beach?"
   "I'm not going to be naked, so why not."
   "Yer a lot looser than I thought, way to go!"
   "Look who's out in the light of day," Mike beamed, walking into the room,
   "Was starting to think you'd turned into a vampire. Missed you Tiny."
   "Hey Mike, nice trunks."
   "Ya like em? Bought em yesterday, Peter picked em out."
   "What did I pick out? Oh hi Davy - good - you're coming with us!"
   "Hey Pete. Mike was tellin me you picked out his new trunks, nice one."
   "Oh yaa. Of all the ones he tried on I liked this pair the best. They show
off his-"
   "HELLO MICKY!" Mike interrupted, bringing a grin to Davy's face.
   "HELLO MIKE. WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?"
   "Hey Micky."
   "Davy! You coming to the beach with us?"
   "Yaa I guess I'm goin to give it a try. You look good."
   "So do you, I'm so excited that you're coming along! Imiss you little one."
   Planting a quick kiss on his cheek Micky smiled broadly, elated to have some
contact with his lover, the would-be hermit.
   "Everybody ready?"
   "I just wanna grab my radio," Peter called.
   "Hustle up Pete, you're always the slow-poke."
   "Sorry Micky, I'll hurry."
  Once out on the sand under the brilliant California sun some of Davy's old
self began to peek through. A refreshing swim having invigorated him, some
group shenanigans immediately followed. Splashing around in the ocean playing a
game of chicken against Mike and Peter he balanced on Micky's shoulders with a
delighted grin, locked in a push-and-shove match with Peter, fighting to stay
on top.
   He and Micky ran around the beach in a game of tag, playfully grabbing at
each other in an intimate back-and-forth exchange of touches, gropes and
tackles. Laughing for the first time in days, they collapsed on the sand in a
breathless sweaty heap, with Micky pinning him neatly beneath him. A few
discreet, sandy kisses later, they decided to join the others for lunch.
   Too focused on the fun (and a little worked up from so much close contact
with Micky) Davy failed to notice the half-pound of grit sticking to his sweaty
skin. Without thinking, he reached across the blanket to grab a sandwich,
scattering sand all over Mike's fully loaded plate. With a sinking feeling in
the pit if his stomach, Tony saw what was coming next.
   "What the hell Davy!" Mike groused.
   "Wha'?"
   "You just shook wet sand all over my food! Do ya hafta lean over ever'body
like that?"
   "Sorry mate, I guess I wasn't thinking."
   "Well getcher mind off of Micky's ass for a minute and mebbe you could."
   "I said I was sorry Mike, wha' more d'ya want?"
   "There's plenty of food left," Tony said, trying to redirect the
conversation, "we'll just fix you up another plate Mike."
   "Well, I reckon it was an accident.. Alright.”
   For a minute it appeared that all was well - ruffled feathers tucked away -
everyone happy to move on. From the corner of his eye Tony saw the trembling in
Davy's hand, half-heartedly clutching his sandwich.
          (Please lord, not now!)
   Trying to maintain an illusion of calm, Tony spoke casually, offering the
two men choices for their lunch.
   "Cole slaw kiddo? Mike?"
   "No thanks."
   "Shore."
   "Pickle?"
   "Absolutely."
   "I'll pass."
   "Baked beans? Potato chips?"
   "Load me up!"
   "No, thank you."
   "Davy are you just going to eat a sandwich kiddo?"
   "I think I'm just gonna 'ave a coke Tony, I-"
   "You spoiled rotten little brat!" Mike jumped in, "You're gonna waste all
this food and go off pouting cuz you got called out on your own rude mistake!"
   "I should've stayed in my room; I knew this would be a bad idea. I'm going
'ome."
   "Davy wait."
   "Fuck that Tony, I'm done 'ere!"
   "Davy …" Micky called.
   But it was no use. Determined to escape the situation, he was already
halfway to the house and not looking back.
   "I'm going to go talk to him," Tony sighed, dusting the sand from his legs,
"if I'm not back in a few minutes, I probably won't be."
   "You shouldn't be coddlin him."
   "Thanks Mike, but I've got this."
   "I'm gonna go with him," Micky announced, "I'll see you guys later."
  Quickly catching up with Tony Micky was at his side when he knocked on the
bedroom door. When Davy didn't answer, he rapped harder, calling out his name.
   "Davy it's Tony, can Micky and I come in?"
        Still nothing.
   Shrugging slightly, Micky turned the knob and stepped inside with Tony close
behind. Aside from Davy's clothes laying across the foot of the bed, the room
appeared as it had when Tony left him earlier that afternoon. Only now the
young man occupying this space for much of the week was nowhere in sight. The
open door ruled out his presence in the darkened bathroom, so logically they
checked the balcony next. Stepping outside they found Davy curled up on the
chaise, eyes closed, the remnants of a good cry drying on his cheeks. Seating
themselves in the two deck chairs opposite him, Tony reached out and gingerly
shook his knee.
   "Please, leave me alone."
   "I will kiddo, when I'm sure you're okay. I know Mike misunderstood what you
were doing out there, please, tell me what you were going to say Davy."
   "What difference does it make now?"
   "I want to know. I want your feelings to be validated Davy; you have a right
to be heard. Please kiddo, talk to us."
   " ... wha' us?"
   "It’s me cookie," Micky said, "Nobody else is here."
   Sniffling once, Davy wiped his eyes and sat up in the lounger. Not yet
looking at either of them, he picked at his own fingers nervously as he spoke.
   "I was gonna tell you that I didn't think I could eat anything' just now. I
missed my afternoon dose fer the nausea n my stomach was reeling down there."
   "I saw that you were starting to shake a bit. I had a feeling something was
happening but I didn't know exactly what. I'm sorry Mike lashed out at you like
that, I really wanted to set things straight out there but I wasn't going to
force you to stay."
   "You.. you believe me?!"
   "Of course I do. Davy I saw the effort you were putting in out there, I know
that you were enjoying your day. You even held it together when Mike chastised
you, I was truly impressed."
   "It was my fault; I'd have been pissed too."
   "We all know how Mike is," Micky smiled, "he doesn't mean to be such an ass;
it's a gift or something he was born with."
   "He was really nice to me before we left fer the beach; I knew it was the
sand bit that riled 'im. I just don't understand why 'e sees me as such a
rotten obnoxious kid."
   "Self reflection. He sees himself in you, his younger self - and it
irritates him. He is hard on you hoping you'll learn without having to make all
the same mistakes he did kiddo. A bit backwards and psychological, but it's the
truth."
   "Well 'e musta been some wicked awful kid, cuz 'e thinks I'm the devil
incarnate."
   "How is your stomach, are you still feeling sick? It's not too late to take
your meds."
   "Much as I despise the delivery method, I need it. I'm so 'ungry but I'm
terrified of putting anythin' in me stomach."
   "I'll send it up with Micky here and leave you two to it. I'm going to go
have a little chat with our resident hothead."
   "S' not worth gettin 'im all riled up again, 'es just gonna be pissed off at
me."
   "Trust me Davy; I know how to handle Mike. It's going to be fine. Micky,
come get this suppository, we need to get him feeling better."
   "Be right back Dave, and I promise to be gentle with it this time."
                                                                                     
*
   After a quick shower and enduring another bullet up the tailpipe, Davy
settled in for a short nap. When he awoke, he was surprised to find Mike
sitting in the rocking chair next to his bed: Surprised and more than a little
nervous.
   "Mike! W-what are you doing up 'ere?"
   "Waitin' on your sleepy ass to wake up. How ya feelin?"
   "M'doin alright."
   "Good to hear. Me not so much Tiny."
   "Eat too much at lunch?" He asked smartly in a lilting, sarcastic tone.
   "I suppose I deserve that. I meant that I'm not feeling so good about the
way I done you today at the picnic. Davy I should’a give you a chance to finish
talking, instead of assuming I knew what was going on. I was rude and hurtful:
n well, Tiny I’m sorry. I wouldn't blame you if you told me to shove it, but
I'm hoping that you don't."
   "I can say it anyway if it'll make you feel bettah," he grinned.
   "Sometimes I let my lips start to moving way before my brain catches up. I
really do hope you're feeling better, I'm bettin you're a hungry lil cuss."
   "You 'ave no idea."
   "Well Tony is downstairs whipping up some supper, n I'd be right pleased
Davy if you'll come down and eat at the table with the rest of us."
   "Let me know when it's almost ready."
   "You can count on it."
                                                                                     
*
   A heavenly smell tickled Davy's nostrils as he descended the stairs, leading
him on a taunting path to the covered kettle simmering on the stove. The table
was set with bowls and saucers for whatever fantastic meal awaited them, an
unusual combination that piqued his curiosity even more.
   Tony placed the pot on a trivet in the center of the table, placing a quick
slap on Micky's wrist as he attempted to remove the lid for a peek inside.
Turning back to the stove he opened the oven and the room was suddenly filled
with the scent of freshly-baked bread: Drooling, the four men gathered around
the table practically moaned as he placed a tray of piping hot, flaky homemade
croissants in front of them. A crock of butter joined the mouth-watering
display and Tony pronounced dinner ready to eat.
   "So what exactly did you make? Besides these AWESOME looking crescent
rolls."
   "First of all Micky these are not crescent rolls - they didn't come from a
pop-and-bake can snagged in the dairy section. They're croissants - made from
scratch - and believe me when I say there is a huge difference."
   "Oh. What's in the pot?"
   "I was thinking of Davy's delicate digestive system and wanted to make
something he could tolerate fairly well. Something delicious, healthy and full
of flavor, and one thing came directly to mind."
   "Grandmamma's zuppa!"
   "Yes mi amici, I prepared the zuppa."
   "What in the world is that?"
   "Only the best homemade chicken noodle soup you'll ever put in your mouth
Mike!"
   "Grazie. Davy, you're the only one that didn't eat lunch, please kiddo, give
your bowl to Micky."
   "Okay," he said, handing over his bowl, "and why am I doing this?"
   "It's a tradition that goes back many generations in my family. The zuppa is
generally reserved for special occasions, grand celebrations, holidays and
sickness. Regardless, when eating grandmama's zuppa you never, ever serve
yourself. The family elder, sick person or guest of honor is always served
first, and by the person seated to their right."
   "It's an interesting tradition, but wha's itfor?"
   "Perfect question. It began in a time when there was very little food, and
to be able to afford to prepare the zuppa meant a moment of prosperity. The act
of serving the person seated beside you is to remind us that we've all seen
hard times, and to remember those less fortunate before we celebrate our own
good fortune."
   "Wow," Peter smiled, "that's beautiful! Is that an Italian custom?"
   "It is a family custom Peter; it began seven generations ago with my nonna
Spirelli, my papa Martinelli's grandmamma."
   "I love it," Mike beamed, "traditions are what keep families together. Thank
you for sharing this with us."
   They went around the table in a counter-clockwise direction following the
custom established so long ago by nonna Spirelli, with Davy finally ladling a
generous portion of soup into Mike's bowl. In the same manner, the croissants
were offered to each of them by the man to his right, until everyone had his
food.
   "Davy as the person of honor at this meal, it's tradition that you say a
blessing for us. Would you mind?"
   "Father in heaven for this lovely meal and those we share it with we are
truly thankful. Bless it to our health and let us always remember the less
fortunate. Amen."
   "Very nice kiddo, thank you."
   "I don't wanna sound like a big jerk but Davy would you PLEASE take a bite
of the soup?"
   "Wha's the hurry Micky?"
   "By tradition, nobody else can eat until you do, and I'm famished!"
   Spooning a steaming mouthful of the rich flavorful soup into his mouth,
Davy's eyes lit up with sheer pleasure, the hearty deliciousness overwhelming
his palate.
   "This is the best chicken soup I've evah had!"
   "Thank you Davy, try it with a buttered croissant, you'll really enjoy it."
   "Forgive me little one, but Tony, I love you!"
   "That good?"
   "Bellisimo!"
   "Well unhitch the mule and hook me to the plow! Damn that's some excellent
soup!"
   "Thank you Mike, glad you like it."
   "Tony my compliments to nonna Spirelli; and these croissants are like big
buttery pillows!”
   "Thank you Peter. There’s plenty to go around, do eat up.”
   Busy shoveling soup in by the ton, Micky could only nod and gesture his
appreciation. Fortunately for Tony, all Italians could speak fluently with
their hands: He understood clearly that with Micky the meal was a huge hit.
  Somehow managing to stomach the magic elixir that was Tony' soup Davy
ventured outside to sit on the back patio with the others for a while, sipping
tea and enjoying the evening breeze. The sounds of the closing day and the
glorious western sunset, so large and seemingly close enough to reach out and
touch, were soothing to the soul. Each of them lost in his own private reverie
they sat without speaking, content to simply be in one another's company.
   It happened so subtly that it was on him before anyone - even Davy - knew it
was coming. Had everyone not been mentally adrift, the slight jingling clatter
of his teacup jittering against the saucer in his lap would have been the first
sign of the impending anxiety attack.
   Feeling a bit warm he credited the hot soup for the clammy sweat that had
sprung up on his skin, the increased pace of his breathing he attributed to the
caffeinated tea. By the time the claustrophobia set in, it was already too
late. Suddenly feeling penned-in Davy jumped to his feet, knocking his chair
backwards, his cup and saucer shattering on the wooden deck beneath him.
   Stumbling back into the corner he yanked hard at the collar of his shirt,
its close proximity to his throat producing in him the feeling of being choked.
Ripping it open easily he gasped for a decent breath, his shirt buttons flying
in several directions across the sand.
   "Davy!" Micky called, jumping up to hurry to his side.
   "Easy Micky," Tony said softly, reining him in by a belt loop, "what he
needs the most right now is a little calm and a lot of space."
   "I know but-"
   "I see it too amici, we'll get to it in a minute, it isn't serious. Davy, I
know it's difficult but I want you to try and focus your breathing. Deep
breaths through the nose, and try to keep track of your surroundings. Okay
kiddo?"
   His eyes glazed, the pupils blown out to their fullest, Davy acknowledged
nothing that was happening around him. Stealing furtive darting glances about
his field of vision, it became obvious to Tony that he was lost in another
hallucination.
   "Micky my first-aid kit, go quickly."
   Off the deck in a flash Micky disappeared across the brief divide between
the two houses, sprinting as fast as the darkness would allow. Mike and Peter
stood motionless, frozen in stark fear as the watched the scene that unfolded
before them. Arms outstretched protectively Davy was doing fierce battle with
whatever invisible demon was plaguing his tortured mind. Kicking out and
flailing his arms the tiny Englishman fought to fend off his imagined attacker,
a choked gurgling emanating from his throat in his effort to cry out where no
sound would come. His back against the low wooden railing Davy nearly toppled
over backwards in his struggle, a painful and dangerous drop to the sand yards
below a certainty.
   Concerned for his safety, Tony took a step toward him knowing full well it
could have a disastrous result - but his panicked young charge was utterly
oblivious to his presence. Coming in low, he moved quickly encircling Davy just
below his hips, swiftly throwing him over his back long enough to wrestle him
gently to the ground. When Micky vaulted the last few steps to the deck Tony
was straddling the younger man, attempting to grasp the wild arms that still
sought to inflict injury to his self-invented assailant.
   "I've got the kit - what the f-"
   "I need help!" Tony asserted loudly, "Someone needs to hold him down while I
prepare the injection!"
   Proving to be too much of a wild stallion for Micky to manage alone Mike
came to the rescue, each of them pinning an arm to his sides freeing Tony to do
what must be done. Less than a minute later, it was over, the four men gathered
around the unconscious figure of their young friend with a deep sadness in
their hearts.
   Tony knelt beside him and tended to the cut on his shin, where a shard of
teacup had impaled the golden skin a short time ago. It was to everyone's
surprise that Mike, with tears in his eyes, gingerly hoisted Davy into his arms
and carried him upstairs. When he'd come back down, Tony was in a panic of his
own.
   " … So now I have to figure out how to get his sub into him before the
withdrawals get any worse tonight."
   "He's gotta have his other pill at ten," Mike chimed in, "and I think it's
time we seriously consider how out of our league we are with this."
   "I was hoping to give it another week or so, it's not like he's going out
anywhere alone, the only ones dealing with him is us."
   "Man you know as well as I do how close Tiny came to goin' ass over end off
the deck just now! You can't honestly tell me you believe he's safe doin' this
at home!"
   "Actually I do Mike. If he's too much for your comfort level you're more
than welcome to send him home with me."
   "That's not what I'm saying here."
   "Well the offer stands, anytime."
   "Man we're not trained or equipped for this kind of thing, that's all I'm
saying."
   "Then you've said it. Either you're in this or you're not, there is no
middle ground Mike."
   "I never said I was out, just voicing my opinion."
   "Appreciated. Now how about something constructive; like how to get his meds
into him now that he's out for the count?"
   "Trying to sit him up long enough would probably wake him up or be a waste
of time, wouldn't it?"
   "I'd say yes, one or the other. Regardless Micky, it isn’t a reasonable
option."
   "When I was a kid my mother would crush any pills I had to take and mix them
into applesauce."
   "A good idea Peter, but again we're faced with the fact that he's asleep. He
can't swallow in his sleep and after that god-awful thing he went through out
there I don't want to wake him just yet."
   "How long you reckon would be enough time to let him sleep 'fore ya do wake
him - if ya had to?"
   "Absolute minimum, a couple of hours. Why?"
   "So what are the odds of him being able to wake up just enough to swallow a
little laced applesauce by then? He's already in a withdrawal state, taking his
meds a few hours late is better n missin' it altogether ain't it?"
   "I guess we'll find out, it's about the only option we have at this point.
Nice teamwork guys, this is what I need from you all, more than anything, is to
help me manage things until he gets past this first hurdle."
   Sighing, Mike nodded. In spite of how he felt, he would be there for Davy.
For all of them.
   "Okay so I'm going to need some help with him when the time comes, one
person should be enough. Any volunteers?"
   "I'll do it," Micky said, "I'm gonna have to get him into his pajamas
anyway."
   "Its seven-thirty now, say about ten o'clock?"
   "Ten it is."
   "I'll probably be awake still by then, if y'all wind up needing an extra
pair of hands, lemme know."
   "Thank you Mike, I'll keep that in mind."
                                                                                     
*
   Friday's visit to Paul's office was stilted and uncomfortable at best. An
exhausted Tony appeared as dwindled as the hungover-looking young man seated
next to him. From across the desk Paul gazed at the pair with a growing
concern, as he listened to Tony describe the previous night's events to he and
Davy at the same time. Scratching a few quick notes into his file, he turned an
even gaze upon his patient.
   "Davy I'd like to speak to Tony alone for a minute, and then we'll have our
session, alright?"
   Looking rather nervous he nodded, wordlessly exiting to the outer lobby.
   "Well don't you just look like a major construction zone."
   "I beg your pardon?"
   "You look like four miles of bad road. This is taking a toll on you."
   "Of course it is but he's my responsibility, and worth every bit I might
add."
   "Sure. He seems like a great guy, but how long can you keep up this pace?"
   "I know I look like hell, but honestly I normally sleep every night. Last
night was truly an exception. I get where you're going, believe me when I tell
you that I will come forward if inpatient treatment becomes necessary Dr.
Scott."
   "I've offended you."
   "Not in the least."
   "Then why the formality? I've been Paul to you for some time now."
   "Pardon me that: my heritage tends to make me a tad business-like when I'm
trying to get a point across. Do forgive the misunderstanding."
   "Nothing to forgive, you communicated your truth to me and the matter is
closed. Do you see any improvement at all at home?"
   "Not speaking with a hopeful heart, but I do. He is making an effort to
socialize and has even had some good times. His only drawback at this point is
the withdrawals and their effect on his mind and body."
   "No begging for the pills? No attempt to get some on his own?"
   "Not at all. He seems committed; it’s just the weaning process that's been
so difficult."
   "Guarantee me that you'll let me know if this grows beyond your capability
and I'll leave him at home."
   "He is far too important to me to handle it any other way."
   "Alright," he nodded, "send him in."
   Stepping outside Tony motioned for Davy to trade locations. Filled with
apprehension, he walked into Paul's office and reclaimed his seat.
   "How are things going?"
   "Aside from being a friggin bahsket case now n then, pretty rough."
   "That bad eh. Tell me about the symptoms you're dealing with."
   Davy detailed the lovely week he had spent itching, sweating, puking and
otherwise despising his own body. Honestly expecting to hear he was being
carted off to the nearest rehab, he sat quietly staring into his lap.
   "I'd definitely say that's a tough five days you've had."
          (Here it comes)
   "So do you have a plan to get yourself through the weekend, anything
specific to keep you occupied or perhaps an emergency plan?"
   Raising his eyes to meet Paul's the look of stunned relief on his face could
not have been more genuine.
   "You.. you're not sending me off?"
   "No Davy, not at this point. I do however think you need to make an effort
to recognize the signs and triggers that lead up to the incidents that you've
been dealing with."
   "M'not sure I know what you mean."
   "Alright for instance, before you have an anxiety attack would you say you
typically experience any of the other symptoms you mentioned? Say you get
nauseated and sweaty, or perhaps you'll get a headache and start itching twenty
or thirty minutes before an episode."
   "Oh I see. So maybe I'm just sitting around and I get the shakes or stahrt
to get irritable. That could be a clue that things are about to get stupid."
   "Yes exactly. Once you're able to see it coming, there are things you can
learn to do on your own or with someone you trust to possibly avert a
potentially ugly situation."
   "Likewha'?"
   "It’s going to be easier to send a booklet home with you that has a vast
collection of techniques for relaxation and calming - yours to keep.”
   "Thanks Paul, that'd be great."
   "I want you to understand too that it was by Tony's insistence that you're
not going to a treatment facility today. Neither of you is looking much like a
picture of good health kiddo, I'm hoping that things improve over the next
seven days."
   Grasping the implications of what would likely happen otherwise, Davy too
hoped that things would quickly turn around.
   "Tell me something positive that happened to you since our last visit."
   "We 'ad a picnic yesterday on the beach, for the most part I 'ad a really
good time. I got outside fer a bit and played in the water. It was nice to
leave me bedroom fer a while."
   "Social contact is very important for anyone Davy, but at a time like this
in particular you need to try not to isolate yourself too much. Here is the
booklet I promised you, continue with your meds and call if you have an
emergency. I'll see you Monday morning."
   "Have a good weekend Paul."
   "Take your own advice Davy and do the same."

   Once back at the beach house Davy claimed fatigue and opted for a late
morning nap. When he'd taken his leave, closing the bedroom door behind him,
Tony filled the others in on the decisions made at his counseling appointment.
Unfortunately, not everyone was pleased with the outcome.
   "Ya mean that head shrink offered to put him into a clinic to finish this
out - and you talked him out of it?!"
   "That's not quite how the conversation went Mike, seeing my sleep-deprived
condition Paul assumed that things were getting rough around here. I explained
that it was a rare thing for me to get no sleep at all and the matter was
settled."
   "Settled for who?" He bit back, his voice rising in aggravation, "I was
hoping one of you could talk sense into the other, but apparently you managed
to snowball the doctor too!"
   "It was a mutual decision based on fact, there was no swaying anyone's
opinion on either side. Why are you so hell-bent on sending Davy away Mike?"
   "He needs professional help. I for one would like to get through just one
night without the five a.m. mania taking over dragging everybody out of bed
before the roosters!"
   "As I've said, if it's a burden to you, he's welcome to stay with me for the
duration. It's a shame that as his friend this is the best that you can do."
   "As his friend? I happen to care about that kid, but it is not worth
destroying everyone else in the process of saving Davy. Poor Peter is such a
nervous wreck he's been having nightmares and nobody is sleepin for more'n a
few hours at a time."
   "Michael please, it's not a big deal."
   "I don't hear anybody else complaining, just you Mike."
   "Nobody else has the balls to speak their mind to you - you're so goddamn
busy trying to prove yourself right they're afraid to step up and tell you the
truth!"
   "Guys," Peter spoke again, "please don't fight."
   "Fine. Anyone else has something to add, some complaints to file; let’s get
them out on the table now. Micky? Peter? Please, be honest."
   "I'll admit that I feel like I'm in way over my head, and no I don't get
enough sleep anymore. That being said I love my little one, and I don't want
him sent off somewhere just because I wanna sleep late in the morning."
   "What about you Peter?"
   I love Davy like a kid brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do to help him,
ever. But some of the things that he does scares me, and when I'm scared I'm
not of much use to anybody. I know it isn't his fault - and I'm not blaming
him, I just feel helpless and nervous all the time."
   As the bickering continued in the kitchen, nobody had noticed the sad, quiet
figure in the corner of the second floor landing. Hot angry tears streaming
down his cheeks, Davy slipped silently back into his room before anyone
detected his presence.
   "I'm done with this conversation," Tony said angrily, "Cut and dried Davy is
my ward and unless I deem it necessary he will remain at home for the duration
of his recovery. Should that be an inconvenience to anyone here, I have no
qualms whatsoever about moving him in with me until this is finished. Micky
would you be so kind as to take his suppository up to him before he falls
asleep, it'd help him out a great deal if he were getting his medications on
time."
   Nodding, he took the foil packet and headed up the steps, having nothing
further to say that would be of any help.
   "Has it crossed your mind that by being so considerate of his feelings, you
might be doing Tiny more harm than good?”
   "It's not about his feelings, I simply don't believe that sending him away
to strangers is going to do anything more to help him through this. It
certainly won't make it any easier for him to feel forgiven, accepted or
loved."
   "He is-"
   "Tony!" Micky interrupted from the top of the stairs, panic in his voice, a
stricken look in his eyes.
   "Micky what is it?"
   "Davy's gone."
***** Chapter 14 *****
   "What do you mean he's gone?"
   "He's not upstairs, not anywhere!"
   "Have you checked the balcony?"
   "Balcony, bathroom - he'snot here."
   "Maybe he went next door to your place."
   "I'll go out the front way and look at my house, one of you check the back
patio and scan the beach."
   "Why not just call his cell phone?"
   "Be a great idea Mike if it wasn't right there on the table," Micky pointed
out.
   "He's not on the back deck," Peter said, poking his head in the bay doors,
"I'm gonna go look around on the beach."
   Fifteen minutes passed before everyone met back in the boys’ kitchen, no one
having seen neither hide nor hair of their AWAL youngest. Running out of
answers, they held a quick powwow to pool their brains.
   "Where on earth would he take off to?"
   "The better question Micky is why would he leave, he was in a decent mood
and said he was taking a nap!"
   "You don't suppose he overheard the fuss about him do you?" Peter asked.
   "I certainly hope not," Tony winced.
   "If he did it would explain his vanishing act, I mean if it were me I
wouldn't wanna stick around either."
   "Damn. He could be anywhere by now, there's no telling how long ago he
left."
   "Not much we can do but wait, but believe you me, if Tiny was my
responsibility he'd damn well be getting that ass busted when he got back!"
   "Ever the caring diplomatic voice of reason eh Mike."
   "Micky he knows he isn't supposed to leave the house alone. No way of
knowing what kinda mischief he'll be about."
   "So pleased to hear the concern in your tone."
   "Dadgummit man! Of course I'm concerned about him Tony! But none of us'd
hafta be if he hadn't a took off like'at!"
   "So what do we do now?"
   "Unfortunately Micky Mike is correct about one thing, there's little else we
can do but wait for him to show back up."
   "Couldn't we look around town? I hate to think of him being out there upset
and maybe going into one of his spells."
   "Believe me amici it crossed my mind, but he could be anywhere. He may be
holed up at a friends or at the theater - he could be in one of his many hiding
places he disappears to when he needs space.”
   "I wouldn't waste the gas in my car on him," Mike grouched, "but you can bet
I'd be waitin with my belt off when he got back."
   "For pity's sake Mike he's not twelve!"
   "Micky if he behaves like a kid youtreat him like one."
   "While surprisingly I agree with your concept Mike I'm not sure I can see
myself spanking a nineteen year old man."
   "By GodI'll do it!"
   "You'd like that too much," Peter grinned.
   "I'd enjoy it but not for the reasons you're thinking of shotgun."
   "This really isn't helping you guys."
   "Micky just find something to occupy your time. Until Davy decides to wander
back home, nothing else can be done."
   "Shit."
                                                                              
       *
    Angry and very hurt Davy had slipped down the back stairway to the beach,
walking off at a steady clip across the sand. His fiery pace matching his
emotions, he soon left the beach house and its occupants far behind. Fighting
back the tears that threatened to blur his already red vision, he swallowed the
hurt, choosing instead to embrace the waves of rage he felt at being so easily
dispatched by those he felt the closest to.
   Nobody needed to remind him that he'd messed up - of this he was painfully
aware, but to know he had become a burden, a disruption to the lives of his
friends (some friends) was more than he could bear. Trudging along the streets
in a tangle of his own thoughts he lost focus of his surroundings, no longer
caring he simply propelled himself forward wallowing in his own misery.
   Vaguely aware of a buzz of noisy activity he discovered that he was all the
way down by the pier, the hum of the crowd on the boardwalk ahead having broken
through his private little bubble.
           (Don’t)
   The clenching in his stomach went unnoticed as he continued moving in the
direction of the din, passing the tiny boutiques and small shops that lined the
avenue preceding the constant festival atmosphere that was the boardwalk.
           (Turn back)
   Tourists and locals mingled in the densely populated strip of neon-lit
rides, restaurants and carnival-like gaming booths that lined either side. A
jumble of sensory input pressed in on Davy, flooding his brain with a plethora
of stimulus too intense for him to fathom out. Bells and whistles, loud chatter
and the screaming of excited children weaved their way into the mixed aromas
from the various food carts, overwhelming his senses and increasing the tension
in his already knotty shoulders.
   A hurried passersby jarred into him, sending him into a momentary spin. The
dizzying view and his sudden awareness of the sheer number of bodies
surrounding him were at once more than Davy could bear. His hands, tugging at
his now-constricting collar began trembling uncontrollably, his stomach
lurching with a spasm that twisted into a painful knot. His normally pink
cheeks were pale and glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, his heart tapping
out a frenzied rhythm in his heaving chest.
   With a mind of their own his fingers clutched wildly at his own hair, the
soft, brown eyes Micky so loved growing wide with panic and fear. Teetering on
the edge of losing it altogether a low rumble gurgled in Davy's throat, rapidly
building into a terrified shriek. In the final seconds before his mind
succumbed to the anxiety, separating from reality entirely, he was seized
roughly about the shoulders by strong hands.
   "Davy?" He barely registered the speaking of his own name, "Davy, man what’s
wrong?”
   Snatched back from the brink he stared wild-eyed into a familiar face, the
hands on his shoulders shaking him back to reality.
   "Man, are you tripping or something?"
   "P-please, help me!"
   "What do you need me to do?"
   "J-just g-get me out of here."
   "I gotcha man, come on."
   Leaning on his rescuer for support, Davy managed to half-walk half-stumble
away from the crowded scene. His breath still coming in hitches and gasps he
all but collapsed in the passenger seat of Ben Worthington's car. Sliding
behind the wheel Ben keyed the ignition, turning to Davy with a curious eye.
   "Bad trip?"
   "N-no, p-panic attack."
   "You want me to drive you home?"
   "F-fuck no, a-anywhere but there."
   "Okay, just mellow out dude, I know what you need. We're going to my place."
                                                                                     
*
   At six-thirty Tony sat down to dinner with Micky and the guys, though in all
honesty he didn't have much of an appetite. An unusual quiet had fallen over
the supper table, the conversation amounting to 'please pass the salt'. As they
still had not heard from their young runaway, a somber mood had set up
housekeeping among them with an inclination to stick around. Just as Micky
decided he was no longer hungry, the front door opened and disheveled-looking
Davy came casually strolling in.
   "Oh great, I was 'oping to eat with everyone! Something smells fantastic!"
   "Where in the world have you been!" Tony demanded.
   "I went fer a walk. Ooh Micky you made yer spaghetti!"
   "A walk. You're not allowed to go out alone Davy and you know that. Do you
mean to tell me you've been walking around all this time?"
   "Not the entire time, no. Who made the salad?"
   "I did, you like it?"
   "It's smashing, I'd never have thought of putting pears and red onion
together but it's incredible. Is that radicchio?"
   "Yep, with baby spinach and feta cheese."
   "Excellent job Mike, really."
   "I don't appreciate you taking this so lightly, you had everyone worried
sick. Now tell me where you were."
   "I told you, I went fer a walk - I ended up down at the pier."
   "Who were you with?"
   "Umngah Mnky, thithis inquellibo!" Davy enthused through a mouthful of
spaghetti.
   "Thanks little one, I made it extra chunky with lots of tomatoes and
garlic."
   "I asked you a question Davy and I expect an answer."
   "Not that anyone should need to know but I wound up at Ben Worthington's
place."
   "You did WHAT?" Micky asked.
   "I distinctly remember telling you to stay away from him."
   "I know that."
   "Why on earth would you be stupid enough to hang around with that slimy,
sleazy jerk after everything he's done to you Tiny?"
   "Stupid? Really Mike? Maybe because when the ONE PM MANIA took ovah Ben was
there to save me arse!"
   Taken by surprise to have his own comments thrown in his face, Mike was at a
loss for words. Realizing that Davy indeed had heard their list of complaints,
the others merely hung their heads.
   "Wha' - all of a sudden nobody has anything more to say?“ How come not one
of you has bothered to ahsk me WHY I left in the first place? Is it perhaps
because you already know?"
   "I realize kiddo that you overheard the discussion that we had earlier
today. I'm sorry if it upset you, but that does not however alter the rules
that apply to you to remain in outpatient treatment."
   "Well forgive me if at the moment I just don't give a fuck."
   "I'll be right back - you keep your ass planted in that chair."
   "Sure, wanna finish my dinnah anyway."
   Leaving through the back patio door Tony was gone in an angry flash. When he
returned, he carried a small box in his left hand.
   "On your feet Davy."
   "Wha' for?"
   "I'm exercising my option to do a drug test on you right this minute, into
the bathroom, let's go."
   "You seriously think I went out and got high!" He said angrily, jumping to
his feet.
   "I don't know but I intend to find out. Bathroom, now."
   "Fuck the bathroom! I'll do it right 'ere! Give me the cup."
   Taking a step back, Davy unbuckled his belt, popping the button on his jeans
and lowering the zipper. Without reservations, he pulled out his member,
filling the test cup to the brim.
Capping the cup Tony swirled it, coating the built-in test strips, while Davy
saw to tucking things away. A few minutes later, the test results were in.
   "Well?" Micky asked timidly.
   "Davy I owe you an apology. I took a full-spectrum drug screen on you with
this test kit: You're clean as a whistle."
   "No kidding!"
   "For real?" Mike blurted.
   "Absolutely. Whatever he did today, using drugs was not a part of it."
   "Oh thank God," Micky breathed, "I'm so glad to hear that. Way to go
cookie!"
   "Nice one Davy."
   "Thank you Petah."
   "I'm pleased Davy, but you're not off the hook. Regardless of what happened
here today you had no business taking off like that. You broke a major rule and
there will be consequences. When you've finished your dinner, go up to your
room. I'll be up to deal with you shortly."
   "Screw this shit, I'm goin upstairs now. I don't wanna deal with this crap
anymore."
   "Suit yourself, but I offered the chance to finish eating Davy."
   "Whatevah."
   With a wave of his hand and a flourish of attitude, he huffed up the steps,
slamming the door as he went into his room.
   "I'm tellin you," Mike said with a smirk, "a trip over my knee would do him
a whole world of good."
   "I'm guessing this means he doesn't get any of the dessert I made," Micky
said sadly.
   "While I don't feel he deserves any kind of treat at this point I don't
believe in depriving anyone of food - even dessert - as a punishment amici.
Once he and I have had our little chat, you may take some up to him."
   "That's very kind of you Tony," Peter smiled, "What did you make for dessert
Micky?"
   "Since I went with Italian tonight I made a mocha tiramisu. I picked up some
killer espresso to go with it."
   "I do believe I'm going to indulge in a bit of both before I go upstairs to
deal with our little miscreant. It might put me in a safer mood for handling
him."
   "Okay," Micky grinned, "anybody else?"
   "I'm ready for dessert Mick."
   "Me too!"
                                                                                     
*
   With a cooler head, Tony finally climbed the stairs to speak to Davy and a
terse knock at the door netted him a disgruntled grant of entry. Lying
shirtless on his bed with his knees bent Davy stared at the ceiling, indignance
still etched into his pouty face. Borrowing the chair from in front of the desk
Tony sat beside the bed preparing for the confrontation ahead. Folding his arms
across his chest, Davy did as well.
   "I understand," Tony began, "that you were upset by some of what was said
downstairs this afternoon Davy, and rightfully so. Again, I'm sorry. Try to
remember that this is a stressful situation for everyone involved, and that
people indeed tend to hurt those that theylove most often."
   "Hurt doesn't begin to covah wha' I'm feeling!"
   "I can only imagine kiddo. Open communication is key in keeping everyone's
emotions heard and respected, unfortunately we've been lacking in that
department lately. All of this aside, it doesn't excuse the stunts you pulled
today."
   "If I didn't leave fer a while there would've been a huge blow-out; I ‘ad to
get some air - some time away from everyone.”
   "Point taken, but you should have come to me. I would have solved the
problem without any issues or fighting and you wouldn't be in so deep right
now. How did you manage to end up with Worthington?"
   "I was so angry and upset I just walked as far n fahst as I could, not
really paying attention to where. I ended up down at the pier and wandered over
to the tourist district on the boardwalk. At first I was okay, but all at once
it felt like the whole scene was pressing in on me. I stahrted to panic …”
   "That had to be very frightening Davy, I'm sorry."
   "I knew I was checkin' out, but was 'elpless to stop it. Out of nowhere Ben
Worthington was there shaking me n calling my name. I dunno 'ow but 'e snapped
me back to reality, hustled me into 'is car and took me to 'is place. For the
record, 'e offered to drive me home but I said no."
   "So what did you do at Ben's house for basically five hours?"
   "Talked mostly. I told 'im 'bout my problem, n what I'd heard this
afternoon.. I just needed to vent."
   "I see. How receptive was your former dealer to the idea of you being in
recovery?"
   "All 'e said was s'not fer everyone - using that is. You might as well know
something else. Yer not gonna like it and I'll probably regret telling you, but
I 'ad a couple of beers with 'im."
   "Just curious here, but I would never have found out about that if you
hadn't mentioned it, so why tell me?"
   "Because Tony, I don't want to 'ave secrets. I'm not trying to be bad or
cause trouble, but I 'ad a fucked-up day n drank a few cans with someone who
was willing to listen to me bitch. M'not gonna hide it from you even if it
means I get punished. I'm serious about getting clean, but today I needed a
break."
   "Well there are going to be consequences for the rules you broke today. I
will take everything into consideration when I decide what exactly they will
be. For whatever it's worth, I'm not going to discipline you for the drinking -
not just because of your honesty, but because I truly understand. I expect it
isn't going to happen again."
   "No sir, thank you Tony."
   "I've brought you your phenergan, and Micky will be bringing you your
dessert after I take my leave of you. For the moment, you're not to leave this
room until further notice. I'll have a decision by tomorrow morning as to your
punishment. If I don't see you at ten for your meds, I'll be here at three."
                                                                                     
*
   Saturday was to be a family day with another picnic, planned ahead, and an
entire itinerary of activities spanning into the evening. Swimming, volleyball,
a lengthy jam session and a sunset bonfire as well as lunch and dinner on the
beach were only part of the fun lined up, but Davy would not be included this
time. Watching instead from his bedroom window, having been restricted to his
room for the weekend, he sulked, feeling angry and unjustly left out. Bored and
more than a little irritated with seeing everyone else have a grand time in the
sun he plopped down on his bed once again, hands clasped behind his head,
regarding the ceiling with a hateful glare.
           (bloody friggin shit I'm bored)
   He'd already read everything in the house at least once, and the only TV
available was down in the living room. Sick of playing solitaire, he had
dropped his deck of cards in the nightstand a while ago, and it was still two
hours until lunch. Yawning, he dragged the blanket up to his chin and curled up
on his side for a leisurely nap.

   Down on the beach Peter was playing with a tune he'd been constructing on
his acoustic guitar. Stuck on a particular bridge he was frustrated, asking for
input from Micky and Mike. After fiddling with a few chords that Mike
suggested, the changeover fell effortlessly together, leaving a grinning Peter
sitting tickled on the beach blanket.
   "Wait right here," Peter excitedly cried, "I wanna go get my radio and
record this onto my tape!"
   Twenty minutes later he returned, empty-handed and looking forlorn.
   "What's the matter big Pete?"
   "I can't find my radio, I'm sure I put it under the staircase like I always
do, but it's not there."
   "Well now don't get all upset shotgun, maybe you put it someplace else and
just forgot."
   "But Michael I looked everywhere and I can't find it. It's like it just
vanished."
   "We'll look for it when we get home Cotton, I'm sure it's there somewhere."
   "Okay Michael."
   "Anybody ready for some volleyball? I got us a spot playing against the Red
Riders," Micky said, "Winners play the surfer guys for the championship."
   "I'm in!" Tony said.
   "Me too!"
   "Come on fellas," Mike beamed, "let's go kick some red-ridin ass!"
                                                                                     
*
   Shortly after one, Davy woke to Micky gently kissing him. Warm from his nap
and freshly awake his senses were heightened as a silky tongue brushed over his
plump lips, traces of a salty-sour flavor lingering from the pickle he'd eaten
moments before.
   "Afternoon sunshine. I brought up your lunch."
   "If it's all the same to you I'd rather have s' more of that," the younger
man purred.
   "I would love to accommodate your request - believe me - but I was already
warned that I can't stay. Tony reminded me three times that you're on
restriction."
   "Of course he did," Davy snarled, shoving off the blanket.
   "Don't get mad, I plan on faking a stomach ache later so I can go to bed
early. I'll see you one way or another little one," he winked.
   "Wha's fer lunch?" He smiled, feeling a little better.
   "I didn't know what you wanted so I brought you some of everything, and I
snuck you up an extra coke."
   "Tha's freakinsmashing!" He grinned, looking over the loaded tray. "I
suppose you 'ad to sneak the chocolate cake?"
   "Actually no, Tony put that on here, said he knew it was a favorite of
yours."
   "Huh, 'e can be alright sometimes."
   "I'd better get back out there, no point in aggravating the situation. I'll
see you at dinner."
   Planting another peck before he stood Micky reached up to lightly stroke his
lover's cheek, a feathery touch that left electric tingles behind.
   "Later babe."
   "See ya."
   Digging in with gusto Davy ate like a man who hadn't seen food in days,
eating more from boredom than hunger. Partway through his potato salad, the
familiar bling of a text message rang out from his cell. Reaching into his
pocket, he pulled up the screen and read the cryptic message:

                                      FENCED 4 U - EARNED U 5
                                                  C U @ 3 DBL
   A mixture of emotions ran through him and he suddenly found he no longer had
an appetite. Setting the tray on the desk, he walked to the door that led to
the balcony. Staring out at the beach below, he scanned the expanse of sand in
search of his oldest roommate. Spotting his sunny smile and golden-blond hair
Davy followed Peter's activity momentarily, touching his fingertips to the pane
of glass and swallowing a pesky lump that had taken up residence in his throat.
Turning back to his room, he sat on the edge of his bed, punching away at the
keypad of his phone. Satisfied with his response he pressed the send button:
                                    3 won't work 4 is better
                                      HMU if it's a problem

    Deleting both messages, Davy pocketed the cell and returned to the cocooned
safety of his bed. Shutting out the world and the guilt with it, he closed his
eyes and drifted into a restless sleep.
                                                                                     
*
   Relaxing after their meal Tony and the three musicians chatted casually,
lounging about on two large blankets on the sand. In the near distance, an
obnoxious intrusive blare of bizarre music blasted from an unknown source,
gradually moving in their direction. Soon visible and drowning out their
conversation, was a tattooed and pierced young thug with multi-colored spikes
in his hair, carrying a radio on his shoulder.
   "Hey," Peter pointed out, "whatta you know - he has a radio just like mine!
Small world eh guys?"
Giving the man a shrewd once-over, Mike was quickly on his feet.
   "Real small world shotgun," he said snidely, "it's even got a yellow
butterfly sticker on the side! Come on Mick, we're gonna go have a look at
that'ere radio."
   With Micky at his side, Mike approached the young metal-head, hoping it
wouldn't turn into a confrontational situation. Fully alert and prepared to
assist, Tony stood, waiting to step in if necessary.
   "EXCUSE ME," Mike shouted over the cacophony blasting from the speakers.
   "Yaa," the man replied, the volume turned down, "what do YOU want?"
   "Oh well I was just admiring your radio there young feller n I was wond'rin
where you managed to come by such a fine piece of equipment."
   "Bought it from a guy down at the pier this morning, she's a beaut ain't
she?"
   With his usual impeccable timing, Peter chose this exact moment to join in
on the conversation, his thousand-watt smile and guileless naïveté preceding
him.
   "Gee mister that sure is a swell radio you have, I have one exactly like it
only I can't find it right now."
   "So what're you tryin to suggest?"
   "Oh don't mind my friend here," Mike said nervously, "he just has a thing
for radios and a bad habit of misplacing things."
   "You wouldn't be interested in selling that would you?" Tony asked, stepping
into the foray.
   "Maybe, if the price is right."
   "How about thirty-five dollars?"
   "Huh," metal-head sneered, "how about fifty dollars - and I REALLY like that
watch."
   Without hesitating, Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of
cash, counting out fifty dollars. With a brief sigh, he unclasped his
wristwatch and held it out to the thug with the money.
   "Radio, please."
   They made the exchange smoothly, the tattooed man smiling wickedly at his
profitable manipulation.
   "Pleasure doing business with you," he smiled crookedly.
   "I'm sure. Enjoy my watch."
   Taking Peter by the arm Mike led him away, the four men retreating to their
blankets with the now rather expensive radio in hand.
   "Gee thanks Tony, you really didn't have to do this for me!"
   "Think nothing of it Peter; I know how much that radio meant to you."
   "But you traded your watch and everything! I'll try to get you a new one."
   "That's okay Peter really - think of it as a gift.”
   "Man that wudn't just any ol watch," Mike confided, "that was a fuckin
Rolex! You could'a bought a brand new radio for way less than what you just
gave away!"
   "Hey!" Peter exclaimed, "This is my tape! How did it get in his radio?"
   "Shotgun, you musta left your radio on the beach last time we were out here,
n somebody done stole it and sold it to that idiot. It's pure luck you got it
back."
   "Boy do I feel stupid. But I'm happy too," he beamed, "I really worked hard
on this tape!"
   "Look at that face," Tony whispered to Mike, "he's so tickled to have his
tape back. To me, that’s worth a whole boxful of Rolexes.”
   "Shotgun, you're one of a kind. Thanks for puttin' that smile on his face."
   "My pleasure Mike."
   "I'll be right back; I'm gonna go put this in our room. I'm not losing it
again."
   "I can't believe you," Micky smiled, "Only you would give away a five-
hundred dollar watch to make someone else happy."
   "FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS?!"
   "It's just a thing Mike."
   "I already had a lot of respect for you, but it just damn tripled man.
Fuck!"
   "It’s nothing, really."
   "It’s everything to Peter."
   "I gotta tell you guys," Micky said frankly, "I dunno what happened, but I
remember seeing that radio in the house a couple of days ago. How it got
outside and in dude's hands, I don't understand."
   "I wasn't gonna say anything either, but I recall Cotton carting it up to
the house last time he had it out here."
   "So.. how -"
   "I don't wanna go there Mick. So help me, I don't."
   "Let's not jump to conclusions. He's only been out once, he'd have had to
have gone past us to get it, and he tested clean."
   "I don't wanna believe that he would, but if I find out he did, I'm tellin
you both right now - his ass is dealing with me!"
   "I'm back. Anyone wanna take another swim?"
   "I need to burn off some energy by God, I'm in babe. What about y'all?"
***** Chapter 15 *****
   It was Tony who came at suppertime with Davy's tray, making it an
opportunity to check in on him as well. Noting the unfinished lunch tray, he
made with the small talk in search of the reason why.
   "Not trying to rub it in but you're missing all the excitement today."
   "Oh really? Wha' happened?"
   "Well we won the volleyball tournament, but only by a hair. Could've used
your skills out there with that, but apparently even if you weren't grounded
you're not feeling well."
   "Why do you think that?"
   "Well for starters you barely touched your lunch. Everything okay?"
   "Oh, that. I suppose I was 'aving a private pity pahrty, lost me appetite.
M'over it though.. sorry fer wasting the great lunch you made."
   "Well, I'm glad to hear that you're not feeling ill. It’s dinnertime if
you're ready to eat. It's not exactly a hot meal, I fried chicken last night
and we're eating it as-is. Still pretty tasty according to Micky."
   "Micky will eat anything that doesn't eat 'im first, but I'm sure it's
great."
   "Well, is there anything else I can get you before I go?"
   "Time machine would be nice, there's a few things I'd like to undo from the
last couple of months."
   "Would you settle for a cold drink?" Tony chuckled, "or would you prefer a
cup of coffee?"
   "Whichever is easier."
   "Coke or sprite?"
   "I suppose one of each is out of the question?"
   "You're still so spoiled! I'll be back in a minute kiddo."
   "Thank you," he called, grabbing a drumstick from his plate.
   Back with the soft drinks, Davy approached Tony with his saddest of puppy-
dog eyes.
   "Tony, is there anything we can do - some way to work it out so that I could
go down fer the bonfire? I'll take any extra punishment you see fit, but I'm
losing my mind up 'ere!"
   "Davy -"
   "Please just think about it. I know it is my fault I am up 'ere alone, but
I'll seriously pay any penalty if you'll just lemme out fer a bit."
   "I'll consider it Davy but don't count on it. The whole point of negative
consequences is that it isn't pleasant or fun."
   "I'm going stir crazy, I'm so desperate to get out of this room I'm ready to
offah myself to Mike to take me ovah his knee!"
   " ... It's not abad idea."
   "It was an exaggeration, but wha'evah. Please, please really think about
this."
   "You have meds at seven, that's just over an hour away. I'll have a decision
by then, alright?"
   "Okay, thanks."
   Rejoining the boys for dinner, Tony sat down with a grin and a shake of his
head.
   "That kid is something else."
   "Whatta you mean?"
   "He's pretty much begging me to come up with another punishment for him in
exchange for permission to come out here with us for the bonfire. If it weren't
such a sad situation I'd have laughed at the whole idea."
   "Let him come on down," Mike nodded, "I'll be more'n happy to take care of
the alternative discipline!" He winked, imitating a spanking gesture with his
right hand.
   "Ironically enough, he all but volunteered to let you do exactly that Mike.
He's got a bad case of cabin fever and is desperate for a change of scenery,
and some company."
   "You could give him more work to do."
   "I don't know amici; it didn't seem to faze him last time."
   "What about taking away some kind of privilege or something he really
enjoys?"
   "That's essentially what the restriction he's on now is about Peter; with
everything he's already lost because of his recovery situation, there isn't a
lot left to restrict him from."
   "I'm tellin ya, just gimme ten minutes upstairs with him and he'll come down
to you a new man!"
   "Why not just give him extra time in the room for whatever time he comes out
here for," Micky said, glaring at Mike, "just like makeup time but where he's
not feeling so left out."
   "I considered that as well, but my concern is that Davy will buck when it
comes time to serve the 'makeup' time with the same excuse."
   "Tell him he can't before you agree to let him come down."
   "I have a little time; I'll think about it and figure something out.
Meanwhile, my dinner is calling my name."
   At seven o'clock sharp, Tony was back at Davy's door with his medication and
a proposal for solving his cabin fever. Eager to get some fresh air the young
Englishman was quick to admit him entrance.
    "I brought your phenergan."
    " ... Okay. Anything else?"
   "Yes, I have options for you. I'll allow you to join us on the beach for the
remainder of our evening, but there will be conditions attached. Exactly what
they are is pretty much up to you."
   "How do you mean?"
   "I discussed it with the guys and they had some very good ideas. I
considered everything and I have a few choices for you as a 'makeup punishment'
- it's up to you to pick one."
   "Oh lovely. What are my options?"
   "Option A: A rather thorough ass whipping from Mike - which he is absolutely
hoping for," he grinned, "Option B: Eight hours of serious hard work AFTER your
restrictions are lifted-"
   "EIGHT HOURS!-"
   "And Option C: An extra twenty-four hours of confinement to your room. Your
decision Davy."
   "Wow, are ya trying to change my mind 'bout comin down?"
   "Not at all, we're all looking forward to your company. I am however making
it quite clear that consequences do not simply get lifted because you're
feeling boxed-in. You earned this one kiddo; I am being generous in even
considering this. So, it's your call."
   "This bloody sucks. I suppose I'll take the extra twenty-four hours, which
is gonna drive me crackahs - but I need to get out of 'ere fer a bit."
   "Understand that puts you in here till Tuesday morning, with the exception
of your appointments on Monday."
   "Shit," he sighed, "can I reconsider this?"
   "For a different option you mean?"
   "Yaa. What kind of work would I hafta do?"
   "I have a friend who is redoing a large garden, a good solid days worth of
work easily. A lot of digging, moving large rocks and barrows of dirt. Probably
some planting and such, some landscaping."
   "That definitely sounds like work. Suppose I took Mike's offah, who decides
when s'enough?"
   "I won't allow him to abuse you Davy or get carried away - I'll have the
final say in the matter - but I suppose it'd be something the two of you would
have to hash-out."
   "Can I talk to Mike down there n give you my decision then?"
   "I'll go along with that, but if I don't have an answer from you within
thirty minutes, back up here you'll go."
   "Fair enough, but you will."

   " ... so lemme get this straight," Mike said, a sideways smile plastered to
his face, "you're actually asking me to take my belt to your bratty lil ass?"
   "Erm, not yet. What I wanna know first is IF I were to agree to it, wha'
exactly are we talkin about - a few licks?"
   "Oh-ho-ho no baby, it'd be a proper ass whoopin, none o this smack on the
wrist 'bad baby' shit."
   "Okay s'how many licks? I'm not gonna take a beating ya know."
   "I'm thinkin.. twenty-five."
   "No way! Fifteen."
   "Huh-uh babe. Twenty: One for ev'ry year ya are old n one for good measure."
   "M'not bendin ovah yer knee."
   "Okay, we'll figure sumthin else out for that."
   "N m'not takin me britches orf!"
   "NO! Of course not, this isn't some kinky sex trip!"
   "Okay. Well lemme talk to Tony right quick, I'll letcha know wha' he says."
   "Come on you guys," Micky called, "we already have the fire lit, what's the
holdup?"
   "Coming now."
   Joining the others around the roaring blaze Mike sat down beside Peter, Davy
squeezing in between Tony and Micky, who was toasting a marshmallow on a stick.
   "Well, did you two come to an agreement?"
   "Unfortunately," Davy scowled, "but I suppose it could be worse."
   "It isn't a done deal until I agree to the terms kiddo, so lay it on me or
hightail it back to your room."
   "Twenty licks, not ovah his knee, me britches on - IN PRIVATE."
   "That what you got out of it Mike?"
   "Sounds 'bout right to me."
   "Why so many?"
   "We negotiated to that number, one for ev'ry year of his age and one for
good measure."
   "Guarantee me you aren't going to administer him a beating."
   "I'm not out to hurt Tiny, just teach him a lesson. It's a spankin, for lack
of a better word."
   "Davy you agree to this?"
   "Yessir, I suppose I do," he said, flushing crimson.
   "Alright, tonight then before you go to bed the two of you can see to it."
   "Wha' exactly areyou grinning at?" Davy barked at Micky.
   "Sorry Cookie, I just had a visual."
   "A-heh-heh, heh, gimme that," he said, snatching the marshmallow from him.
   "Hey!"
   "Serves ya right."
   "I can't help it, the idea of it just sends little thrills up my-"
   "MICKY!" Tony interrupted.
   " ...spine."
   "Hmm."
   Across from him, a sly smile crept onto Peter's face.
   "Now what's got you all lookin like the cat that swallered the canary
shotgun?"
   "I think Micky lent me his visual."
   "You guys are terrible," Davy grinned, "Toast me anothah marshmallow."
                                                                                     
*
   Around eleven the festivities finally broke up on the beach, much to Davy's
objections that the night was still young.
   "Stop avoiding the inevitable kiddo, it's time to pack it in. We're not
going to disturb the whole neighborhood."
   "Just one more song? One more marshmallow?"
   "Give it up Tiny, the fire's already out. Come on now, let's get this done
with."
   "Alright, I'm coming."
   "Peter, Micky - you two bring the blankets and stuff up to the house, Davy n
I have business to tend to."
   Walking solemnly toward the house, Davy remained a few paces behind Mike,
the butterflies in his stomach suddenly feeling like a colony of bats flapping
about in his midsection. Walking through the bay doors, Mike turned to address
him, an authoritative yet gentle quality to his demeanor.
   "I'm gonna go change clothes n grab my belt Tiny. Go on upstairs n I'll be
there in a few minutes."
   Davy nodded silently, the faintest glint of fear in his big brown eyes, and
headed for the stairs. Several minutes later Mike tapped on the bedroom door,
waiting for a reply from the nervous young man. When none came, he stepped
inside, and finding nobody, called for him.
   "Where ya at Davy?"
   "I'll be right out Mike," he answered from the bathroom, "M'changin into me
pajamas."
   Leaning against the desk the tall Texan waited patiently for his young
roommate to make an appearance. Moments later the door opened and Davy stepped
into the bedroom, bravely meeting Mike's eyes.
   "So, 'ow do ya wanna.. do this?"
   Glancing at the thin cotton pajama shorts Davy wore Mike winced, knowing
that each crack of his belt would drive through the flimsy fabric with a biting
vengeance. Determined to forge ahead, he swallowed, finding his voice along
with a little Texas grit.
   "I reckon you could either lie down on the bed or stand up and brace your
hands against the back of this here chair. Whatever you think'll work out the
best for you."
   "I .. I think I'd rathahs-stand."
   Stepping aside Mike gestured towards the desk chair, his wide leather belt
clutched readily in his right hand.
   "Step back from it a foot or two so's you're leanin toward it just a bit."
   Trembling slightly, Davy did as instructed, his bare feet planted shoulder-
width apart, his hands gripping the top of the chair so tightly that his
knuckles were bone white. Placing a hand on the younger man’s back, Mike spoke
softly.
   "Try n relax Davy, I'm not here to beat hell outta ya, n I'm not here to get
my kicks. Take a deep breath n let it out, n try to relax your body a little."
   Nodding, he took a breath, blowing it out in a long exhalation. Closing his
eyes, he barely whispered to Mike.
   "I'm ready."
   Out in the hallway of the second floor landing, Micky and Peter stood
listening with bated breath, hoping against hope that Mike's will would
dissolve and Davy would be spared. Their backs against the wall on either side
of the door they waited, silently pleading with the universe to help their
young friend.
   Inside, Mike stood to one side of him, his left hand planted firmly on
Davy's left shoulder. Bracing himself for the task ahead he drew back his right
arm and swinging in a deep arc connected the first stinging crack with his
backside.
        'THWACK'
   Peter and Micky swung their heads to gape at each other with wide-eyed
stares. Shocked and devastated for his little one, Micky slid to the floor, his
face a mask of agony, fat tears streaming down his cheeks.
        'THWACK'
   Sitting beside him on the carpet, Peter held his friend, rocking him and
attempting to soothe his aching soul.
   "He's gonna be okay Mick, Michael won't be cruel to Davy. You know that."
        'THWACK'
   "I know, I just hate knowing he's in pain."
        'THWACK'
   In the bedroom, Davy stood stock still, neither flinching nor crying out as
Mike's belt repeatedly marked its territory on his rapidly reddening behind.
Silent tears ran down his face but he made not the slightest sound or plea for
mercy.
        'THWACK'
        'THWACK'
        'THWACK'
   On and on relentlessly went the onslaught, one man delivering - one silently
withstanding - two huddling together in the hall bearing audible witness, until
finally silence fell in the house. For several moments the door remained
closed, as the boys waited for Mike’s triumphant appearance in the hallway.
When nobody came, Micky could wait no longer. Timidly he opened the door to
find the room completely empty. Knowing his Davy only too well, he tapped
lightly on the closed lavatory door.
   "Babe, it's me - can I come in?"
   "S'not locked."
   Slipping inside he found his lover standing red-eyed at the sink, running
cool water over his cheeks. Meeting his eyes in the mirror his heart ached for
what he knew he'd just endured.
   "You okay?"
   "As well as can be expected I suppose, but I will be. I won't be a minute."
   Taking a seat on the closed toilet lid Micky prepared to wait for him,
wanting to hug away all the hurt when he turned around. Glancing at his
backside - more out of curiosity than habit - he took in a sharp breath,
appalled by what he saw.
   "OH MY GOD DAVY!"
   Whirling to face him Davy grasped both of his hands.
   "It isn't what you think!"
   "Your legs! What the-"
   "It was an accident Micky; please, don’t be angry with Mike. The lahst swing
kinda got away from 'im n 'e accidentally got my thighs instead of me arse."
   "How do you know it was an accident?"
   "Because, 'e dropped to 'is knees in tears pleading with me to know 'ow
sorry 'e was. I sawit in 'is eyes Micky, 'e really didn't mean to. We talked
fer minute, but I think Mike is feelin pretty low about it, 'es out on the
balcony. Maybe you could talk to 'im?"
   "I dunno ..."
   "Man you should've seen it. I nevah thought Mike could be so.. kind. Yaa, 'e
did wha' 'e was supposed to n all, but it was done right. No teasing or
gloating - like 'e really cared. I've got a new respect fer him."
   "Really?"
   "Yaa. I'm pretty sure 'es out there kickin 'imself, please talk to 'im, let
'im know m'alright?"
   "Okay, but I wanna put some salve on this first, it's really bad."
   "I won't argue with that, it stings!"
   Carefully applying some ointment to the angry welts on Davy's thighs, Micky
gently covered them with gauze, taping it in place. Settling him in bed on his
stomach, he wandered out onto the balcony in search of his bandmate. Standing
by the rail, hands in his pockets, Mike cast a weary glance out across the
stretch of sand to the ocean below. His posture alone was enough to tell Micky
that he indeed was feeling grievous toward himself: his shoulders limp, his
head hanging forward forlornly.
   "Hey," Micky said, stepping up beside him, "Why so down?"
   "You seen Davy?"
   "Yep. Just put some cream on his legs, got him all bandaged up and tucked
into bed."
   "Then why you askin’ me man?"
   "Cuz Davy isn't holding it against you, he knows you didn't mean it to
happen like that. So I was wondering why you were holding it against yourself."
   "I hurt him bad Mick! Sure it was an accident, but didja see them welts?!"
   "Sure I did. But ya know what, he sent me out here to talk to you. He said
he doesn't want you to feel bad cuz you did such a great job in there. Real
paternal and caring, like you just want him to turn out right. He said he has a
new respect for you. Mike I was in the hall listening while you were whippin
him and it was killing me to hear - but man, all of us know that you'd never
hurt Davy, not intentionally!"
   " ... He reallysaid that?"
   "Yaa. He was adamant that I come and talk to you. Shit happens Mike, just
let it go."
   "You ain't pissed at me?"
   "Iwas, until he told me what happened. I know it was an accident Mike."
   "I'm gonna go down the back steps and come in the bay doors, I don't think I
can handle seein Tiny right now. Tell him I said good night, will ya Micky?"
   "You bet, night man."
                                                                                     
*
  In the bedroom Davy lay on his side propped up on one elbow when Micky came
back in, a mischievous grin creeping around his lips.
   "I was beginning to think you weren't coming back."
   " ... why are you looking at me like that?"
   "Like wha'?" He replied with mock innocence.
   "Like a hungry dog drooling over a raw steak - and don't play innocent with
me cookie, I invented the concept."
   "Come ovah here, I want you."
   "I don't see how we can - not with your legs like that."
   "So I'll take care of you n we'll take care of me next time. I've missed you
like crazy all day ya know."
   "You drive a hard bargain little one."
   "I'm about to. A few less clothes please mistah Dolenz."
   "Now that's a request I can't refuse," he said, slipping out of his
swimsuit, "I am at your disposal, have mercy little one!"
   "Not on yerlife."
  Thirty minutes later Micky lay fast asleep, snoring like a monster,
completely drained from the blowjob from hell. At one point he was certain that
Davy had sucked his balls up through his cock (not that he was complaining) and
would surely swallow them with his load.
   Beside him, Davy was furiously tapping out a text message, hoping he wasn't
too late to make a change in plans. Moments later, he received a reply.
Deleting both messages, he threw on his shoes and slipped out the balcony door.
Treading lightly he made his way down the back stairs to the beach below,
carefully looking about for any sign of Tony or the others. Convinced that the
coast was clear he ventured out into the open, darting across the expanse
between the two houses. Creeping alongside Tony's place Davy dropped to his
knees when he reached the elevated back patio, stealthily crawling past it in
the sand. Reaching the other side of the house, he scrambled to his feet,
racing off across the beach at breakneck speed.
***** Chapter 16 *****
   At two forty-five Tony slipped into his jeans and loafers to make the trip
next door for Davy's three o'clock meds. Fitting his key in the bay doors, he
stepped inside to find Davy standing in the kitchen.
  "You okay kiddo?"
Jumping at the unexpected intrusion, Davy whirled around, clutching his chest
and trying to catch his breath.
   "Tony! You startled me ..."
   "Sorry, I didn't expect to find you down here. Are you alright?"
   "Yaa, erm I was just thirsty. I know I'm restricted to my room, but I
couldn't see waking Micky so late just fer a glass of milk. Are you angry?"
   "No, I can appreciate you not wanting to wake him. I brought your adderall;
you might as well take it with the milk."
   "Oh, right."
   Grabbing a glass from the cabinet Davy filled it halfway with milk, taking
his medication obediently. Draining the glass, he rinsed it, leaving it in the
kitchen sink.
   "Well I'm going back to bed, g'night Tony."
   "Good night kiddo, I'll see you later."
   As Davy went up the stairs, Tony was struck by the odd feeling that he was
missing something - something critical that had slipped past his usually sharp
eyes. Dismissing it for the moment, he went out the door locking it behind him
and headed for home.
                                                                               
      *
    The next morning Mike and Tony sat together in boys kitchen sipping a
leisurely cup of coffee. Rising earlier than usual, Micky had gone for a
morning swim with Peter, and Davy was still asleep upstairs.
   "I trust it went alright last night, as I haven't heard any objections from
the minor league."
   "We went upstairs and did what had to be done," Mike replied, "aside from
one careless swing, it all went the way it was supposed to I reckon."
   "Oh? What happened with that?"
   "I .. I guess my arm was gettin a little tired," Mike said, his voice having
suddenly become very small, "On the last lick I musta had a spasm or sumthin..
my aim went south n I cracked him on his bare legs on accident."
   "I see. Is he okay?"
   "He's got some purty nasty welts on his thighs. I felt s'bad I fell to my
knees n cried like a big ol baby. He was right kindly about it, even sent Micky
out to make sure I was alright afterward. He's some piece’a work that Tiny."
   "So you two have reconciled the matter then?"
   "I b'lieve so. I apologized right off.. meant it too. He insisted he knew I
didn't mean for it to happen."
   "Well then the job was done. Accidents happen Mike - don't beat yourself up
over it."
   "C'mon Pete don't do this," Micky pleaded as the two came on the back door,
"We can do something else and I'll get you another one later today!"
   "I'm sorry Micky; I just don't feel like playing anymore, if I see the ocean
I just know I'll start crying again!"
   "What in the world is goin on now?"
   "It's my fault, but before you get to slapping me around Mike I promise I'll
replace Peter's frisbee!"
   A sad scowl on his face Peter was already near to tears again.
   "Shotgun would ya go on out n check the mailbox?"
   "Mike it's-"
   "Please Cotton?"
   "I (sniff) I guess so (sniff) Michael."
   "You realize it's Sunday, don't you? No mail."
   "I know that Micky, I didn't want Peter to hear this less he starts to
caterwaulin’ again. So, what happened?"
   "We were playing frisbee and I dunno how really I wasn't paying attention
but somehow we got turned around a bit and on my last throw Pete's back was to
the water. I guess I threw it too hard and he missed it.. it sailed over his
head landing about thirty feet into the ocean and floated away. I'm sorry man."
   "And you reckon I was gonna wallop you for THAT? Come on Micky, really."
   "Well.. you have been a little over-protective lately…”
   "Unless you're gonna stand like a mouthy lil squirt half my size n cuss out
my boyfriend, I'd say you're relatively safe."
   "Oh."
   "I checked the mailbox, it's empty."
   "Thanks anyway shotgun. Now go on n wash your face a bit. We'll head out
after while n buy you a brand new frisbee."
   "Yippee!"
   "Y'all go and wash your feet off too - you're both getting sand all over my
clean kitchen floor!"
   Glancing down at the barefooted pair Tony stared slack jawed in disbelief -
it suddenly hit him what he'd failed to realize during his early-morning
encounter with Davy:
        At three am, wearing only his pajama shorts - fresh out of bed for a
glass of milk - Davy had sand on his feet.
   "I'll be a son-of-a-"
   "It's not a big deal Tony, Micky can clean it up!"
   "I'm going to tear him a new ass!" he said, getting to his feet.
   "Easy killer," Mike said taking him by the arm, "I dunno who you're gonna
take apart, butcha know ya cain't do squat when you're all fired up. Set back
down n tell me what's got you actin like a tumbleweed in a tornado."
   Over a fresh cup of coffee, laced with a little whiskey, Tony described to
Mike his visit in the wee hours that morning, following it up with the epiphany
of what his oversight had been. Still fairly angry, though much calmer, he
opted for one more Irish coffee before confronting his defiant young ward.
   "Any idear how you're gonna handle this?"
   "Before or after I bust his chops?"
   "C'mon now, that'eres my kinda talk. You bein' the voice of patience and
reason I expect better n that. Now whatcha gonna do?"
   "Oh shit," Micky muttered, walking into the conversation, "What'd Davy do
now?"
   "Apparently he's taken it upon himself to decide if and when he is allowed
to leave the house, taking a particular shine to late night dalliances on the
beach!"
   "You want me to go wake him up?"
   "Absolutely not, I intend to take him by surprise in just a few moments.
Perhaps half asleep and with his guard down, I'll get a straight answer out of
him as to his whereabouts last night. I expect everyone to stay downstairs and
out of the matter completely - got it?"
   Draining his coffee cup in one slug, he stood and with a deep breath, took
to the stairs. Marching determinedly to the bedroom door he waltzed inside
without a second thought.
   Turning to Mike, mild fear in his eyes, Micky shook his head.
   "You couldn't pay me enough to be in Davy's shoes right now," he said,
"there's not enough money in theworld!"
   In three long strides Tony was at Davy's bedside, the sleeping youth curled
up on his side looking angelic as ever in his slumber. One look at the cherubic
face and he was ready to slip out the balcony door, leaving the task and its
target behind. Before his resolve could crumble entirely, he brought a hand to
the young man's shoulder, roughly shaking him awake.
   "Davy!"
   "Wha'!"
   "Sit up, we need to talk."
   "Are ya crazy? You scared shit outta me! You tryin to stop me 'eart or
wha'?"
   "Explain to me why you went out again last night - in the middle of the
night of all times - directly disobeying the explicit instructions I gave you
after your little vacation at Ben Worthington's the other day?!"
   ".. I dunno what-"
   "DON'T LIE TO ME! I saw the sand on your feet this morning Davy! Now I want
the truth from you - or you can pack a bag and we'll drive straight to L.A.
where you can begin your INPATIENT TREATMENT!"
   Shrinking beneath Tony's angry voice Davy drew back against the headboard,
the stark fear in his eyes overshadowed only by the trembling in his terrified
frame. Swallowing nervously he licked his lips, afraid to break eye contact he
stared into the stormy visage of his guardian.
   "A-alright - I went out lahst night - but I d-didn't go to Rocket's n I
didn't get into anythin' I'm n-not supposed to. I just went fer a walk, Tony I
swear!"
   "You were prepared to lie straight to my face with your 'I dunno what you
mean' routine - how am I supposed to believe you now?"
   "I guess there's nothing I can say or do to convince you one way or the
othah.. except to say that I'm s-so scared right now.. m'not gonna risk it by
lying again."
   "Why is it that you suddenly have a problem following my rules? This is very
simple Davy, and yet you insist on complicating things every step of the way!"
   "It was the whipping really.. it made me think a lot about the things I've
been doing lately. I - I'm not 'appy with meself, n I just needed to walk n
think."
   "How many times have I told you that if you need something like that to talk
to me?"
   "In the middle of the night?"
   "ANYTIME! I can't stress that enough - you're not grasping this kiddo - I'm
here for you always, but when you work around me and defy me I haveno choice
but to bring about the consequences that you've wrought for yourself!"
   "Please Tony, give me anothah chance, I-"
   "I've given you more than enough chances! This is the last time Davy, I'm
telling you straight up - if you set foot outside this house one more time
without a chaperone and my explicit consent, this home treatment farce is
finished! As for your punishment, you're not to step foot out of this room
until further notice - a minimum of two weeks - no company, and Micky can
either sleep on the sofa or stay over at my place until you're ungrounded from
this room. And if you break THAT rule, you're moving in with me! I've had it
with you stepping all over my rules!"
   "Two weeks?! I'm losing my mind ahftah one day! C'mon Tony tha's not fair!"
   "You trying to go for three?"
   "This isbullshit!"
   "Another word of sass from you and you can pack up and move in with me now -
and you'll stay in your room over there till this thing is finished - I'd
consider it carefully before opening my mouth if I were you!"
   Silently glaring up at him Davy was seething, angry tears running down his
fury-reddened cheeks.
   "I'll make arrangements for your meds and meals to be brought up to you, and
someone will see to your laundry as well. When I'm in a better frame of mind
I'll be back to make a list of anything you may need from the store. Right now
I'm going home, I need a break. Don't get any ideas about slipping past the
boys; they'll be informed of the changes before I leave the house."
   Turning away, he crossed to the door and with all the grace he could muster
he closed it gently behind him, leaving Davy to resolve his own anger. Stopping
in the kitchen briefly, he explained to the guys in hurried detail the new
conditions placed on their youngest housemate, excusing himself to the sanctity
of his own home.
***** Chapter 17 *****
   Micky, Peter and Mike sat in the kitchen discussing their plans for lunch.
Their quiet conversation was interrupted however by a thunderous crash from
overhead. Before they could reach the spiral staircase, a venomous string of
curse words in a crisp British accent came shouting from the upstairs bedroom,
followed by a series of crashes and shattering.
  Racing up the steps they burst into the room, ducking in the nick of time as
Davy, in an outright rage, pitched a vase through the air, shattering it
against the doorframe. In utter shock the three men stood
flabbergasted, watching as the tiny tyrant, in a fit of temper, destroyed the
room piece by piece.
   "M'notta fucking kid you sonofabitch this is BLOODYBULLSHIT!" He shouted,
kicking a box of odds and ends from Micky's science experiments.
   Peeking out from behind the door Mike and Micky continued to watch the
tirade, frozen in place by the spectacle in front of them. No one had noticed
Peter slip downstairs - calling Tony - who was now approaching the others from
behind. Pushing past them he stepped into the room, just as Davy grabbed up the
desk chair and launched it through the window of the balcony door. In a
deafening crash, the old entryway exploded outward, glass and wood spraying in
every direction.
   The angry Italian strode to him, shouting his name as he went. As Davy
turned to face him, fury still etched on his tight features Tony's right hand
flashed out quick as lightning, slapping him squarely across the face with a
loud crack. He paled, leaving a red handprint that stood out on his cheek like
a neon sign, a beacon that screamed out in the sudden silence of the demolished
room. The two stood staring at each other, Tony in angry shock - Davy panting
and sweaty, a mixture of fear and indignation in his eyes.
   "What in God's name has possessed you? What do you mean by wrecking this
room - destroyingthis house?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND DAVY?"
   Unable to form words the young man stood staring at him, frustrated tears
spilling down his cheeks as he trembled, ashamed, before his friends.
   "Gentlemen, leave us."
   Recognizing in his tone that this was not a request but an order, the three
housemates left the situation in Tony's hands, retreating to the peaceful
safety of the kitchen.
   "I don't know what makes you think that this type of behavior is allowed,
but it is not. I don't care how angry or upset you are or what it's about, you
will NEVER pull a stunt like this again, do you understand me?"
  Davy nodded mutely, his anger dissipating, he knew only too well the enormity
of his foolish behavior and the consequences he was facing.
   "You are going to clean up this mess and I mean right now. Everything you
destroyed that has to be repaired or replaced and you WILL work to pay for. You
have three hours to put this room back to rights, or I am going to tear you a
new ass - you can count on it - I don't care how old you are. We'll discuss
your punishment later, when I don't feel like breaking your little neck. Now
get busy!"
   Without another word, he turned and left the room, joining the others in the
kitchen for a much-needed cup of tea. Sitting at the table he sensed a tension
- a heavy feeling between them - that he knew he needed to address.
   "Alright, let's get this out on the table. I have the distinct feeling that
at least one of you has a problem with how I handled things up there."
   "Damn Tonio," Micky spoke up, "did you have to slap the shit out of him?"
   "Ahh, that's what I thought. You feel I overreacted amici? Tell me, how else
was I to handle it?"
   "I don't know," he said through his tears, "maybe I'm wrong Tony. It just
killed me when you did that. I mean he's all fucked up ya know."
   "Believe me Micky, I do. He must understand, however, that he cannot
terrorize this house or the people and property in it."
   "I hate violence," Peter said softly, "I always think there's a better way
to solve any problem. But man he was so out of control up there Micky; I don't
know how else Tony was supposed to snap him out of it."
   "He's right shotgun, I mean come on, he almost hit all three of us with that
dadburned vase!"
   "Mike, I'm calling a repairman out here - I'll have that door fixed today -
on me. Davy will work to pay me back, I'm sorry."
   "I appreciate that, but it ain't your fault. I got somebody that does good
work fairly cheap if you want his number."
   "Thank you, that would be great."
  Upstairs Davy was sifting through the rubble that was his and Micky's things,
trying to restore order to the nightmare he'd made of their private space.
Picking through the debris he drew in a sharp breath, dropping to his knees in
a sudden burst of tears. There in a pile of broken nic-nacs - the shattered
lenses dislodged from their slots - lay Micky's prized microscope, damaged when
he had blindly been throwing whatever he could reach against the walls.
Clutching it to his chest he broke into sobs, suddenly so ashamed of himself he
could hardly bear the pain.
   Moving to the bed, he gently laid it under his pillow, hoping that somehow
it could be repaired. His heart broken, he went soberly about his work, his
thoughts a myriad of self-deprecation and humility: He'd done it again: hurt
someone that truly cared about him. Only this time it was his own stupidity
that had brought it about, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make
things right.
  When the repairman arrived, Tony led him upstairs to have a look at the
wreckage, hoping for a reasonable estimate. Examining the damaged door, Jimmy
"Lucky" Fields pronounced it dead on the scene, recommending a whole new one,
frame and all.
   "I can have it done today - few hours truth be told. Need to clear everyone
out of this room, it's gonna be real noisy and dusty. Run about two hundred
eighty dollars."
   "Go ahead then," Tony nodded, "Can you take a check or do I need to run to
the bank?"
   "Check is fine; I'll go down n get my tools."
   To save his lungs and ears Tony permitted Davy to sit on the sofa while the
repairs were being made. He was instruced to keep to himself and the boys were
reminded of the 'no company' rule. When lunch was ready, Davy took his meal
alone in the living room. Finished eating, he asked to speak to Tony alone.
   "What do you need Davy?"
   "I know I don't deserve any special privileges, but I was wondering if I
could 'ave a pen and some paper."
   "I don't see any harm in it; may I ask what you plan on doing with it?"
   "If you insist, I'll tell you, but if it's all the same to you I'd rather
not say just now. You'll know soon enough, all of you."
   "Alright kiddo, I'll bring them to you in a minute."

   Through the buzz and drone of the repairs being made above, Davy sat
meticulously writing for the better part of an hour. When he was through, he
stepped timidly into the kitchen where everyone else was gathered.
   "What are you doing kiddo; you're not supposed to be up off of the couch."
   "I.. I know, I'm sorry. I'll go right back to it Tony - I .. please - I need
to do this!"
   "Do what Davy?"
   "If you'll permit me, I 'ave a lettah fer each of you. I don't need to stay
while you read them - if you choose to - I just …”
   Suddenly at a loss for words Davy looked down, unable to meet his gaze he
focused on his own feet. Tears of frustration welling in his eyes he swallowed
hard to keep from crying like a frightened child. Compassion in his heart, Tony
came to the rescue.
   "That will be fine kiddo; you may hand out your letters, then resume your
place on the sofa. Calm down okay."
   Davy nodded. Making his way around the table, he extended to each of his
mates the carefully worded letters - folded neatly in half - with trembling
hands and hope in his heart. Taking a side trip to the bathroom, he sat back on
the sofa,  waiting to return to his room. In the kitchen, Tony and the others
talked quietly among themselves, their words too softly spoken to be discerned.
Moments later, Tony called Davy to join them.
   "First off let me say that you are by no means off the hook on ANY of the
things that have taken place."
   "No sir, I don't expect to be."
   "That's good. I want to acknowledge your effort to step up and be man enough
to apologize to everyone, as your behavior has affected the entire family Davy.
All of us would like to address you in regard to the letters of apology you've
written each of us, and kudos for making them individualized and personal. I
will begin by saying first that I accept your apology. I'm grateful that you
are aware of your wrongdoing and appreciate the promise of a better attitude.
Not to say that I've heard it before kiddo, but show me - don't tell me."
   "Yessir, I'm gonna make every effort to do just that. Thank you."
   "Thank you for the letter Davy," Peter said with smiling eyes, "it means a
lot to me, and of course I forgive you. I have to tell you though, you scared
the shit out of me today, and you were totally awake and with it this time. I
don't like drama and I hate violence, it makes me so nervous. Please Davy,
please stop."
   Ashamed for frightening his softhearted, peace-loving pal, Davy hung his
head. Not knowing what to say, he mutely nodded his agreement.
   "I guess that brings us to me," Micky said, "I love you little one and I
accept your apology. Forgiveness is natural for me where you're concerned, but
Davy you can't possibly know how much you freaked me out today. I am really
upset that you broke my microscope, I scrimped and saved forever to buy it. I
know you said you'd replace it, but you can't - they don't make that model
anymore. I don't understand why you did what you did, but I do forgive you."
   "Micky I'm so sorry! You pick out the one you want - regardless of the cost
- n I'll see to it you get it, right outta my money!"
   "It's not important right now babe, but thanks."
   "You'll work it off with me as well, I hope you understand that!"
   "Yessir, quite clearly."
   "Well I reckon that leaves me Tiny."
   Davy swallowed nervously, as this was the conversation he was dreading the
most - the person he was most unsure of - and a flock of geese chose this exact
moment to fly through his stomach, moving southward in a giant vee.
   "I'm not gonna get all hearts n flowers on ya like ever'body else, I'm just
gonna tell ya straight up how I'm feelin' 'bout all of this. I'm tired of your
apologies Davy, and while I accept this one, this is the LAST one I'm gonna
take from you over this crap. You and your little temper tantrums - you
destroyed a part of my house and my serenity with it n I'm not gonna ask you to
stop, I'm telling you flat out - if it happens again I'm gonna beat your skinny
lil English ass to a pulp. Period. Are we on the same page?"
   "Yes Mike, I understand."
   "Good. I don't want it to be like this between us Tiny but enough is enough.
Bring back the sweet-faced, smiling, happy-go-lucky Davy that moved in here
back in October - that's the guy I miss."
   "Don't mean to interrupt, but I'm all finished upstairs. Try not to touch
anything; I slapped a coat of paint on the new doorframe - no charge."
   "Wow Lucky, thanks a lot man!"
   "You wanna come take a look at the job?"
   "Sure," Tony smiled, "Let's have a look."
   Tony and Mike, with Peter at his side, followed Lucky Fields up to the
second floor. Left alone in the kitchen, Micky took an opportunity to speak to
Davy alone.
   "Listen Davy, I know I came off sounding like a real jerk a few minutes ago-
"
   "I deserved it, and more Micky."
   "Will ya just listen to me! Yes, I'm upset about my scope, but more than
anything I was upset by what I saw. I never imagined you could be so.. angry -
violent. It really shook me up. I love you cookie, there's not a whole lot you
could ever do to chase me away. I just wanted you to know that you're more
important to me than that dumb old microscope."
   "I don't know how you can still love me, but I love you too."
   "Alright, you did a fantastic job Lucky," Tony admitted as they came down
the stairs, "let me write you that check. Davy, you can go back to your room
now, you still have a lot of work to do up there. Just don't touch the doorway,
its gonna be tomorrow before the paint fully dries."
   "Yessir, going now."
                                                                                     *
   After supper, Tony went up to speak to Davy and check on his progress with
the mess. To his surprise, the room was immaculate, looking as if the outburst
had never happened.
   "Well I'm impressed kiddo, it looks better in here than it did before you
had your little fit.. which brings me to my visit."
   "Whatevah punishment you decide on Tony, I'm ready to accept."
   "That's good to hear, I'm not in the mood to struggle with you just now.
While I appreciate your apologies to the family, it could easily be
misconstrued as a blatant attempt to walk away with a more lenient punishment,
any thoughts on that?"
   "I - tha's not wha' I was ahftah Tony I swear!" he said vehemently, "I
really meant everything I said in those lettahs!"
   "Alright Davy, calm down. Tell me something, if you were me and I were you,
what would you do to punish me for this stunt?"
   "I dunno.”
   "You're going to have to do better than that, because I'm seriously
considering having you come up with your own punishment on this one."
   "Yer joking!"
   "Not in the least."
   "I wouldn't know where to stahrt, 'ow am I supposed to -"
   "Probably the same way that you were perfectly capable of wrecking this
room, trashing someone else's home and destroying other people’s property -
with a lot of determination and a bit of that Manchester attitude."
   "Yer really serious about this!”
   "The general consensus downstairs it that you need another ass-whipping,
though not from Mike but from me this time. God help me Davy I'm beginning to
wonder if they aren't right! I am NOT getting through to you - if anything,
things have gone from bad to worse! If I don't see a positive change A.S.A.P. -
I'm going to have to take drastic measures!"
   Thoroughly chastised Davy sat mutely staring up at him, trembling and on the
verge of tears. Tony looked at him not with anger now, but with sadness,
frustration and fear.
   "I cahn't apologize again, it's pointless really. I've done it s'much n
turned round and done more - but Tony, if you'll just give me onelahst chance -
I'll get my shit together. I don't deserve it, but so help me if you'll just do
this fer me, I will earn yer faith back. I swear. Give me the whipping if you
think I deserve it, lock me in my room - lock me in YOUR room - but Tony, I'm
begging you, please - don't send me away."
   "Send you away?"
   "I know I've made threats meself, but I don't wanna go back to England -
please, PLEASE give me one more shot!"
   "Davy I wasn't even considering the idea of giving up custody of you! I
don't give up on the people I care about, ever. When I said drastic measures, I
was talking about taking you home with me, cutting out all privileges, limiting
your relationship with Micky and keeping you in the house until your behavior
improves. I will NEVER throw you away!"
   Bursting into sobs Davy threw himself into Tony's arms, relief pouring out
of him in a watery gush as he cried on his sturdy chest. Stroking the silky
hair and cradling him in his arms, the older man soothed him, rocking him in
his protective arms till he cried out all of his fears. Finally calm, Tony
eased him away, softly brushing away the last remaining salty tears from his
upturned face.
   "Go and wash your face kiddo, I'll be waiting when you come back."
Nodding, Davy rose and tottered on shaky legs into the bathroom. When he
returned, Tony gestured for him to sit beside him.
   "I've made a decision. Your punishment for this incident Davy will be to do
the work I offered you for my friend, two days worth - fairly hard, heavy work.
It will suffice to begin paying for the damages and a new microscope for Micky.
Is there anything else that needs to be repaired or replaced?"
   "No sir, just some things of mine that I broke, nothing I deserve to have
replaced."
   "You're certain?"
   " ... The desk chair didn't quite make it."
   "One desk chair. Your two-week restriction to your room still stands, beyond
your appointments and any NECESSARY outings. Micky will be staying in my guest
room as of tonight."
   "Will you be - erm …” he trailed off.
   "What kiddo?"
   "Am I to be whipped again?"
   "As much as I feel you should be, no Davy."
   A brief nod.
   "I'm sending Micky up to get some things and then he'll be leaving with me;
I don't expect him to be very long if you catch my drift."
   "Yessir.. I assume conjugal visits are out of the question?"
   "Let's just say it'll be an opportunity for both of you to build some
forearm muscle. Good night Davy."
   "G'night Tony, and thank you - fer everything."
                                                                                     
*
   Later that night, Micky paced the floor of Tony's second floor guest
bedroom. Unaccustomed to sleeping alone he was having a hard time falling
asleep without Davy by his side. Staring out the window at the moonlit beach,
he did a double take - unable to believe his own eyes as a familiar shape crept
along the breakers near the shoreline below. Slipping downstairs on silent
feet, he tiptoed out the back door, creeping up behind the lone figure walking
stealthily away from their shared home. As Davy broke into a trot in front of
him, he sprinted forward, tackling him in the sand.
   "Wha' the - MICKY!"
   "SHH!"
   "Bloody hell babe, why'd ya jump on me?"
   "What are you doing out here? And where are you going? You aren't supposed
to be out here Davy, you're already in deep shit with Tony - you trying to go
for the big lockup or what?"
   "I .. I was just takin' a lil walk.."
   "You were running!"
   "Okay so I've got some energy to burn - but I wasn't going anywhere, I just
needed some air. Wha're you doin out 'ere?"
   "Saving your gorgeous behind! If Tony catches you, it's you that will be
camping out in his guest room not me- probably permanently! It hasn't even been
one night and I'm already going nuts without you, will you PLEASE go back
upstairs before he sees you!"
   "Come on Micky please, just a short walk - I won't be long, Mike'll be there
with my medicine at three o'clock n-"
   "Little one, don't make ME take you over my knee - I can do it too! Go on
Davy, please."
   "Yer right, m'sorry. I shouldn't have ahsked you to lemme go."
   Sharing a quick kiss Micky stood, offering Davy his hand to help him to his
feet. Brushing the sand from each other they parted ways, and headed to the
neighboring houses.
   Back in his room Davy sent a text message, punching at the keys in
aggravation he quickly rattled off:
                                             GOT SIDELINED WON'T BE THERE TILL
AROUND 12:30
  Moments later the reply came:
                                                I'LL B HERE.. GONNA COST YA -
WEAR THE RED
  Sighing he deleted both messages. Going to the dresser he sifted through the
drawer until he found what he needed, stepping into the bathroom to change his
clothes. When he emerged, he sat on the bed and dealt yet another game of
solitaire, biding his time until he could once again venture outside.
***** Chapter 18 *****
   "WOOHOO!" Mike shouted as he hung up the phone.
   "You okay Mike?"
   "What the heck?" Micky asked, surprised by the unusual outburst from the
reserved Texan.
   "What is it Michael?"
   "THAT was R.A. Zucker, business manager at Club Durango - Get this: They
looked at our demo video and want to talk to us ahead of the audition, they
think we're the sound they're looking for! We've been invited to hang out
Friday night at the club and have a meeting with him when they close up for the
night!"
   "THIS Friday night?" Tony asked.
   "Heck yes, isn't that AWESOME?!"
   "That's incredible! We're a shoe-in!"
   "Fame and fortune here we come!"
   "Uh fellas, I hate to rain on your parade, but there are a couple of
problems."
   "Like what?"
   "Well for starters, Davy is not leaving his room to go enjoy an evening at a
club."
   "Shit."
   "No problem," Mike assured everyone, "I'll just tell the manager that he's
sick."
   "Well that leaves us with one more little wrinkle. Robbie is going to be in
L.A. Friday on a business trip as part of his classes, but only for the one
night. He and I have plans for a late dinner and drinks that night at his
hotel, so nobody is going to be home to Davy-sit."
   "Shit!" Micky said again.
   "So, talk to the lil - to Davy," Mike offered, "Threaten him to behave or
else: We'll only be gone for about four hours, how much trouble can he get into
alone in that amount of time?"
   "Come on Tone, this could be a huge breakthrough for us, can you at least
think about it?"
   "Well.. He does seem to be rather concerned about being shipped off. I'll
discuss it with him and let my gut instinct decide for me."
   "Worse comes to worst we could always hire a sitter."
   "For a nineteen year old man?"
   "You got any better ideas shotgun?"
   "Guys, let ME handle this, I'm sure we can work it all out. Meanwhile, has
anyone fed our boy this morning?"
   "Oops."
   "Really? Has he at least had his meds?"
   "That he did get."
   "I'll go talk to him. I'll see what I can get him to eat and work Friday
into the conversation."
  Upstairs Davy was in the bathroom when Tony came into his room. Not wanting
to catch him au naturale, he hollered through the closed door alerting him of
his presence.
   "Erm.. I'll be out in a jiff," he called, "just.. brushing my teeth."
   Tony stood admiring the handiwork of the new door as he waited for his
charge to finish his morning primping, impressed again with the quality of a
job so quickly done.
   "Looks pretty good eh?" Davy said from behind him.
   "Yes, definitely. Not thrilled about the process of HOW it came about, but
it’s most certainly an improvement. Need to talk to you, pull up some
mattress."
   "What'd I do now?"
   "Nothing kiddo," he chuckled, "I just discovered that you haven't had any
breakfast and thought I'd offer to buy you something. Anything in particular
you're in the mood for?"
   "You don't hafta do that Tony, I'd be fine with some toast and coffee."
   "Not a very healthy start to the day. We can stop anywhere you like, it is
Monday - you have therapy with Paul."
   "S'very nice of you, but if it's all the same to you, I don't feel like I
deserve anythin' special. Maybe pick up somethin' fer the fellas on the way
'ome?"
   "You confuse me do you know that! One minute you act like the demon seed and
the next thing you come off like an alter boy. I'll tell you what; I'll spring
for lunch if you'll agree to eat some of it."
   " ... All right, but it has to be somethin' the fellas want. I have the
feeling that this isn't why you 'ad me sit down."
   "No, it isn't. Something has come up Davy and I need to know if I can put my
trust in you for a few hours. I really want to, but I need to hear from your
own mouth that you're not going to let me down."
   "Okay, wha's going on?"
   "I'll be leaving Friday evening to go to L.A.: Robbie will be in town for
the night and he and I made plans for a late supper and a little catch-up time.
As it turns out, Mike got a call just a few minutes ago inviting you four to
the Durango Friday night to hang out for a bit and then meet with the manager,
a Mr. Zucker, about headlining at the club. You however will not be attending.
I need to know that we can leave you alone here and expect you to follow the
rules and restrictions that are laid out for you. The alternative is to hire a
sitter."
   "I suppose that was Mike's idea," he grinned. "Tony, I promise you I'll be
as good as gold."
   "I mean it Davy, no sneaking out, no running around the house. You may of
course get something to eat or drink if you want, but that is the limit!"
   "Yessir, I understand. I'm done with me antics Tony, you can count on me."
   "I'll check in on you by phone or text, and you can call any of us if you
have an emergency."
   "I know, but it'll be okay."
   "Don't let me down. I'll be downstairs, you can come down and have a bite to
eat if you like, we need to leave for your appointment in about half an hour."
   "Thanks Tony, I'll be down in a minit."
  As Davy finished getting dressed his cell phone vibrated, alerting him to a
new message. A nervous shiver ran through him as he read the words - words that
would set in motion a series of events that could easily be his undoing:
                                      BOUGHT YOU A WINDOW
                                       SEE U FRIDAY NIGHT
                                          R.A. ZUCKER lol
   Sighing he pulled on his shoes and headed down to the kitchen, suddenly no
longer hungry. Slugging back a cup of coffee he sat at the table, distracted
and quiet, until it was time to leave.
                                                                                     
*
   "Morning Davy, how was your weekend?"
   "Hey Paul, it could've been bettah but I think things are lookin up."
   "Anything I should know about?"
   "Probably, but I think I'm gonna plead the fifth. Anyway it's all behind
me."
   "Well that's good to hear, I hope it wasn't anything too serious."
   "Just me being a bit temperamental, no casualties unless you count the door.
On a brighter note m'not having so much nausea."
   "That's a good sign, tells me the withdrawals are abating. How are you
eating, you look like you've lost a few pounds."
   "I'm doin alright, just not had much of an appetite I suppose. I do eat
three meals though, Tony sees to that."
   "Stand-up guy that Tony. Punch a door didja?"
   "Yer slick, I'll give ya that - I almost responded to that."
   "Why don't you want to talk about it?"
   "Because I'm ashamed of m'self, I'd just as soon nobody else knows what a
jerk I was."
   "Suppose I told you I already know what happened."
   ".. I cahn’t b’lieve To- no.. You'd have already launched into it, not been
fishing for an ahnsah."
   "Touché, you're pretty slick yourself. Try to remember, this is where you
are SUPPOSED to talk about your feelings, but I'm going to drop the subject
now. Tell me something positive that happened to you since we met last."
   "I’ve got a spiffy new door to the balcony outside my room."
   "Ahh the irony," he laughed, "did you bring your journal?"
   "Erm.. oops."
   "Are you even using it?"
   "Most days, yes."
   "How about the day we lost the door?"
   "Funny, but it seemed to have disappeared in the rubble that day," he
grinned sheepishly.
   "Why don't you give me some time alone with Tony."
   "Okay. So.. yer gonna ahsk 'im about the door, aren't you?"
   "Not if you don't want me to."
   "It's gonna sound worse from 'is point of view, I'm sure," Davy sighed, "I'd
rather we talk about it when I'm ready Paul."
   "Fair enough. I just wanna check on a few details, I may make some
adjustments to your meds. Scouts honor."
   "Thanks, I'll get 'im fer ya."

   "So," Davy asked timidly on the drive home, "What'd you and Paul talk
about?"
   "Just the usual, why?"
   ".. oh. Anything in particular come up?"
   "If you're wondering if he knows about your little temper tantrum Davy, no,
we didn't discuss it. It came up to the extent that he told me you'd mentioned
it very briefly, but insisted that it remains between the two of you as a
therapeutic topic."
   Smiling inwardly, Davy privately thanked Paul for honoring his word, his
confidence in the man jumping by leaps and bounds.
   "Does that make you mad?"
   "Not at all. You and I have talked about it at some length. If you want to
hash it over in private with your therapist kiddo, I'll be happy to leave you
two to it. I appreciate that you're willing to take it to that level, at least
you're utilizing the counseling the way it's supposed to be."
   "What did the fellas want fer lunch?"
   "Mondo Burger specials and onion rings all around, what about you?"
   "I'll just 'ave a coke if it's alright."
   "Well it isn't alright; you promised me you'd eat lunch."
   "I did, didn't I.. Okay I'll 'ave the same, extra cheese."
   "What's happened to your appetite Davy, you've always out-eaten the rest of
us?"
   "S'from throwin’ up so much I suppose, me stomach's shrunk a bit. I'll work
on it, it's just gonna take some time to build it back up."
   "Well, don't make this a habit, these skimpy meals; you cannot afford to
lose any more weight."
                                                                                     
*
    That afternoon Tony put Davy to work painting the upstairs balcony's
railing and door frame. The weather was ideal for it, and it would be the
continuation of the restitution work Davy would perform to help pay for the
damages. Secretly, Tony knew it would be good for him to be out in the sun for
a few hours, breaking up the monotony of the cabin fever. Working diligently
Davy primed the old wood, sanding down any rough spots before applying the
fresh paint. When he was finished, even Mike was impressed with his work.
   "I'll be dogged Tiny you done a great job!"
   "Thanks Mike, you really like it?"
   "By golly I do, looks right new again!"
   "I'm really impressed kiddo; you worked hard and did a fantastic job. Well
done Davy."
   "Thank you. I'm gonna grab a shower, I smell like an old goat," he laughed,
"any chance I can come get a coke when I'm finished?"
   "Absolutely," Tony beamed, "not going to be a habit, but you earned it."

   Downstairs Davy came into the kitchen for his drink, and was nearly bowled
over by Micky - who was beyond excited to see him.
   "Oh my God babe! Come here and let me hold you - Tony can I hug him - PLEASE
say I can hold him for JUST a minute I swear I'll back off when you say but GOD
Davy I miss you - did you get taller? Does he look taller Mike? Oh man do you
smell good and-"
   "Micky!"
   "I -huh?"
   "Mellow out. This isn't a prison you can hug him, and no he isn't any taller
- but no more caffeine for you today okay?"
   "Oh. Okay Tone."
   "Yer a nut ya know that, c'mere you and kiss me!"
   Holding each other as if they hadn't seen one another in months they kissed
passionately, hugging so tightly that across the room you could hear Davy's
back crack.
   "Hug him shotgun, but leave him in one piece," Mike chuckled, "we need him
for rehearsal ya know."
   "Rehearsal? I'm grounded to my room.. unless you know somethin' I don't."
   "Since things are looking good for the job at the club Davy I decided to
grant the boys' request to allow you to come down for rehearsals. Today will be
the first."
   "Tha's very kind of you, thanks Tony - n thank you fellas fer ahskin 'im.
With the way I've behaved lately, I'm grateful you still want me in the band."
   "Well Davy today is a new day," Mike smiled, "just keep putting your best
foot forward. Now I've made copies of the set list for everybody, when we play
the club they will be taped to the floor so I figure that's where we'll put em
now. Go ahead n look em over first."
   "You gonna hang around and listen Tone?"
   "Don't I always amici?"

   Rehearsals went well and Davy reluctantly went back to his room to wait for
supper. Locking himself in the bathroom, he reached into the cubbyhole in the
linen closet and retrieved the plastic bottle from its hiding spot, emptying it
into the toilet bowl. Tucking the empty bottle back into its niche, he made
quick work of undoing his fly and having a little target practice with the
suboxone floating in the commode. Finished with his business he flushed,
waiting to see that every pill he'd secretly spit into the bottle had washed
down the drain. With a sip of water, he swallowed the three hydrocodone tablets
in his hand and settled down on his bed for a leisurely nap.
       He didn't get very far.
   "Davy?" Tony called as he knocked on the door, "Can I come in?"
   "Sure, why not."
   Stepping inside Tony sat on the edge of the bed with a large box in his
hands.
   "Wha's in the box?"
   "It's the new microscope we ordered for Micky, I thought perhaps you'd like
to be the one to give it to him."
   "I cahn't b'lieve it's already come! Yes, thank you - I'd really like that!"
   "I had it express delivered from the warehouse this morning, and it's
insured for two years."
   "Just in case eh," Davy said with a tinge of red on his cheeks.
   "No, it has nothing to do with you or fits of temper. Accidents happen, I
just thought it'd be a wise investment. I'll send Micky up, but don't take a
mile here, understand?"
   "Yessir,” he grinned, “clearly."
   "Oh, I thought I'd let you know I've credited you for today's work, you owed
a total of seven hundred four dollars and eleven cents - minus what you’ve
earned so far leaves you owing five hundred sixty-four dollars worth."
   "Crikey! I'll be workin' this off till I'mthirty!"
   "Not necessarily, depends on the work you do. Some work will pay more, but
you will make no less than ten dollars an hour - as credit of course."
   "Well at least I won't lack for something to do," he grinned.
   "That's for sure, nice that you can keep your sense of humor kiddo. I'll
send him up."
   A few minutes later Micky slipped into the room, ecstatic to be alone with
Davy, even if for a few moments.
   "Hey little one, Tony said you wanted to see me? I can't believe he let me
come up here! What's up?"
   "I erm sorta 'ave something 'ere fer ya," he said, reaching behind him for
the heavy cardboard box, "I 'ope it's right."
   "What is it?"
   "Open it and find out!"
   Fumbling with the heavy tape Micky finally managed to open the shipping box.
When he removed the bubble wrap, his eyes grew large with excitement and awe.
   "OH MY GOD DAVY!"
   "Is it the wrong one?" Davy teased with a grin.
   "NO! I mean it IS, but - it's the one I wanted before but couldn't afford!
How? WHY?"
   "I told Tony I wanted you to 'ave the best.. he made it 'appen. I take it
you like this one then?"
   "If we were allowed any time baby I'd SHOW you how much I like it! Do you
have any idea how expensive this is?"
   "Yaa, but s'what I wanted you to have. I'm so sorry 'bout what I did to the
othah one…”
   "Babe that's all behind us; like Mike said, today is a new day. Come here
little one."
   Micky took him in a tight embrace that was meant only to thank him, but
built quickly into a heated frenzy of kissing and petting, their hands roaming
the contours of each other’s eager bodies. Forgetting the rules, they let their
desires drive them, delicious moans and grunts urging each other to kiss,
touch, and probe.
   Their breath was coming in gasps and pants when a sudden harsh call came
reverberating up the stairs.
   "You two cut that out now! Micky, come down here!"
   "Bloodyhell - 'ow does 'e just KNOW things?"
   "Shit!" Micky sighed, "He's always been a little spooky like that. I gotta
go before he grounds you longer."
   "I'm as 'ard as a rock."
   "Yaa me too. Just think about me.. ya know if you…”
   "Right.. I love you."
   "I love you too."
   The week passed quickly and in relative calm with everyone keeping fairly
busy. An hour of rehearsal every day and working on the garden project for
Tony's friend left Davy little time to get into mischief, and aside from his
visits with Paul he spent most of his free time showering or sleeping. Tony had
taken the Maserati for maintenance and a tune up in advance of Friday's trip,
as well as a trip to the dry cleaners with his favorite dinner jacket. Mike
spent time with Micky and Peter coaching them on some finer points of etiquette
and details of deportment he was honing for the big meeting Friday night: By
Thursday evening they were all polished and ready.
   Friday morning in Paul's office Davy was distracted and quiet. Having a keen
eye and knowing his client fairly well by now, Paul prodded him as to his
peculiar mood.
   "Where are you today Davy - you're certainly not here."
   "Sorry, just daydreaming I guess."
   "Don't give me that, we've been at this long enough now, come on. What's on
your mind kiddo?"
   ".. I -" he hesitated, "Just some guilty feelings.. things - thing's I've
done."
   "You have to have a conscience, it's how we learn from our mistakes - how we
grow and develop morals. It isn't healthy however to continue to kick yourself
for them. Make reparations Davy and move forward."
   "It isn't easy."
   "Someone in the family giving you a hard time?"
   "No, nothing like that.. it's just.. me."
   "You bring your journal?"
   "Yessir, 'ere ya go."
   "Thank you, give me a minute here."
   "Sure."
   "Been working hard I see, good for you - its healthy for you to make amends,
pay your debt. How do you feel about that?"
   "Feels pretty good truthfully. I repainted the deck and door frame, and
managed to replace the microscope of Micky's that I broke. I'm down to four
hundred sixty four dollars I owe now."
   "Good man, you'll get it chipped down. Here is your journal Davy. Any
anxiety? Withdrawals?"
   "Not really, s'been going very well. Think I'm finally gettin me appetite
back too."
   "Well, let's get you on the scale and see if you're making any headway."
   "Okay."
   " ... And one thirty nine. You've gained four pounds, way to go Davy!"
   "Hey cool, Tony will be glad to hear that!"
   "Tell me something positive that happened to you since we met last."
   "I haven't pissed anyone off all week."
   "That is a positive thing. Tell Tony I said hello, and I'll see you Monday
morning!"
   "Really?! Yer not gonna have.. 'The Talk' with 'im?"
   "No, I don't see a reason. Have a great weekend Davy."
   "You too Paul.. I - I'll try."
***** Chapter 19 *****
   The air in the beach house was electric all day Friday as everyone prepared
for the nights adventures. Tony packed a duffel bag, intending to stay in LA
for the night, and Micky and the boys spent hours carefully coordinating what
they would wear for their meeting with the club manager. To simplify things,
Tony ordered take-out for an early dinner to save time - Chinese food - Davy's
favorite, generously allowing him to come downstairs and eat with the family.
   "Okay kiddo, I've taken the liberty of writing a few things down for you. I
know you have everyone's cell numbers, but just in case, here are the numbers
to the club, and the hotel and restaurant where I'll be tonight - if for some
reason you can’t get through on our phones. I'm sure you'll do just fine Davy,
but you can never be too prepared."
   "Thanks Tony, I'll put this in me wallet."
   "I'll be heading out after dinner, what time will you all be leaving here
Mike?"
   "We're supposed to be there around midnight, so probably around eleven
forty-five I reckon."
   "Alright, I'm going out on a limb here, but I believe it's time to take a
leap of faith. Davy, I have your eight and ten o'clock meds - I'm giving them
to you now and I'm counting on you to take them on your own at the right times
- can I trust you to do that?"
   "Wow! Sure Tony, that means a lot to me!"
   "This will free the guys up for any last-minute preparations, and kiddo I
feel you're ready to take this responsibility, even if it's just for tonight."
   "We'll be back around three a.m. Tiny, three-thirty at the latest - so you
won't be on your own for too long - but I think you'll be alright too."
   "You're still grounded kiddo, but if you get hungry or thirsty you may come
down and get something from the kitchen, we are eating fairly early after all
and nobody will be home to get anything for you."
   "Yessir, thank you Tony."
                                                                                     
*
   As the day wore on and evening darkened into night Davy became increasingly
agitated, pacing the floor of his bedroom, his thoughts a tangle of fear and
anticipation. The events that were about to unfold had him on edge, his
immediate future dependent on how well he carried out the task before him.
Shortly after eight, he forced himself to attempt a nap - wanting to be as
sharp as possible when it counted - and soon he was adrift in a torturous
sleep, his waking fears taking shape as the frightful landscape of scary
dreams.
   At eleven o'clock he awoke with a start, Micky at his side shaking him from
his sleep.
   "Easy little one - didn't mean to startle you."
   "Egad man! Ya nearly stopped my heart!"
   "Sorry.. Mike asked me to let you know that we're leaving early. He wants to
get up there and look around, get a good seat and stuff. You gonna be okay?"
   "Yer leaving now?"
   "Yaa."
   "Yaa, course, I'll be fine."
   "Alright, well I guess we'll see you later then."
   "Okay.. Micky?"
   "Yaa?"
   "I love you ..."
   "I love you too cookie."
                                                                                     
*
   Davy waited anxiously listening intently for the sound of the GTO spitting
gravel as it pulled out of the driveway. In the bathroom, he splashed his face
with cold water and quickly combed his hair. Grabbing up his cell phone he
punched in Tony's number and waited nervously, hoping his voice would sound
normal.
   "Hello?"
   "Hey Tony, I'm just checking in. I wanted to letcha know that the fellas
just left, they wanted to get good seats for the show to size up the
competition so they left a little early. Everything is fine here and I'm okay.
I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head back up here to my room."
   "Well thank you Davy, I appreciate you letting me know what's going on, very
responsible of you. Be sure to call me if you need to, okay kiddo?"
   "I will. Tell Robbie I said hey."
   "I'll do that. Good night kiddo."
   "G'night."
   Hanging up he pulled up another contact and sent a quick text:
                                                  COAST CLEAR
                                                CAN I C U NOW?
  A moment later came the reply:
                                      HURRY UP - BRING IT WITH
                                        YOU OR DON'T BOTHER
  Pocketing his phone, he hurried down the steps into the silent house. He
stood for a moment staring at the bandstand, his heart pounding, knowing that
everything he did beyond this moment was irreversible. With a heavy sigh he
tugged on his sneakers, slipping into his blue canvas jacket. Pausing only a
moment longer, he stepped up onto the platform and stood before Blond Beauty,
Mike's prized twelve-string. An ominous thunderclap rumbled in the distance - a
warning from the universe that he chose to ignore - and a brief flash of
lightning illuminated the two of them, he and the guitar. His conscious gnawed
at him and for a split-second he almost ran back up to his room, but the need
burning inside him won out over logic and morals. Reverently he laid his hands
on the instrument, lifting it gently from its stand. He slipped out the bay
doors and onto the sand below, all thoughts of right and wrong erased from him:
The only thing his weary mind could focus on now was the coming high. Picking
up his pace, he moved across the empty beach toward his destination, and a
decision that would surely lead to his own undoing.
                                                                                     
*
   "So our littlest is getting better eh paisano? It's good to know, I've been
so worried."
   "It's been a hard road Robbie, but yes it seems he is finally coming out of
the woods. A terrible thing addiction, I've seen some horrors with this that
I'd never imagined. And you - il mio incredible amico; I still cannot believe
this transformation! You look too impressive to breathe on!"
   "My sweet Antonio, you know it's just the Armani suit, I'm the same marcio
piccola peste of a boy who skinned his knee following you around so many years
ago."
   "You were a persistent little MERDA.. so glad of it too. Poor Gerry will be
heartbroken when I switch to you as my attorney."
   "I would think he would be ecstatic, considering he's offered me a position
in his firm upon graduation."
   "Mi amici! Congratulations! I am so pleased, and happily off the hook!"
   "I'm sure that was half of his motivation in offering me the job. Knowing
you wouldn't want to choose between us and where your loyalties lie. He made
the most intelligent decision for his business and his friendships. Another
drink?"
   "I'm free for the evening, why not. Tonight we celebrate you mi amico."
                                                                                     
*
   Walking into the Durango the boys were filled with a great excitement. A
local hotspot the club was packed with writhing bodies shimmying to the music
of the current headlining band. Navigating their way across the dance floor,
they found a decent table near the bandstand, motioning for the waitress.
   "What'll it be?" she hollered over the din.
   "A Coke," Micky shouted.
   "A beer."
   "Shirley Temple please," Peter grinned.
   "Whatta ya think of the band?"
   "Not bad," Micky replied with a shrug, "but I think we're better man."
   "Atta boy shotgun, so do I."
   "They have a good sound Michael, but their rhythm is off and they're lacking
something that we have."
   "What's that babe?"
   "A cute little Englishman bopping around on the stage."
   "So who's driving home?" Micky asked when the drinks arrived.
   "I am," Mike replied indignantly, "I don't plan on getting drunk Mick, just
a couple of beers to help me relax - but if it comes down to it and I can't
drive, here are the keys to the GTO, okay?"
   "Good deal, thanks Mike."
   "I'm so excited about this meeting!"
   "Me too Cotton, I have a good feeling about this. I really think this is
gonna be our big break!"
   "Here's to our future," Micky raised his glass.
   "To our future," Mike toasted.
   They clinked glasses and drank to each other and their missing mate, excited
for what the evening held.
        Unfortunately.
                                                                                     
*
   Standing on the front stoop of Ben Worthington's house Davy hesitated, his
hand raised to knock on the door frozen in mid-air, unable to proceed.
           (Stop yer bloody waffling you nebbish arse and bloody knock already)
   With an itinerary of its own, his right fist darted forward, rapping sharply
on the door. Startled by the sound Davy drew in his breath in a small gasp, his
heart racing, he silently hoped that no one would answer. Seconds ticked by in
a stretch that felt like an eternity, and suddenly the door swung open and he
stood face to face with Ben.
   "Well well, you actually showed up. I didn't think you had the balls kid,
come in."
   Standing in the foyer with the guitar clutched to his chest, Davy trembled,
his knees knocking together so hard he was certain Ben could hear it.
   "So this is it. Let me see it."
   Swallowing hard, he handed the one-of-a-kind instrument to Rocket, a shiver
of guilt running through him as it left his grasp.
   "Nice," Ben said with a long whistle. "This will bring a pretty penny on the
market. Good work Jones."
   Laying the Gretsch aside and out of Davy's reach Ben turned to the nervous
young man with a cold, detached eye.
   "Here ya go - just like I promised - seventy-five hydros. Pleasure doing
business kid, but you're gonna have to split," he said, backing him toward the
door, "I have people coming over. See ya round."
   His reward tucked safely in his pocket Davy stumbled back into the night,
the patter of raindrops pelting his jacket seeming to him to taunt him with
accusation.
           (traitor! thief! back-stabber!)
   Breaking into a trot he sprinted for home running all the way, his chest
burning, his mind a chaotic flurry of confused thoughts. Reaching the back of
the house he vaulted up the steps onto the deck, his muddy shoes sliding on the
wet wood nearly slamming him face first into the bay doors. Once inside, he
went straight for the stairs, kicking his sneakers off at the bottom step, his
wet jacket landing on the back of the couch as he hurried up the steps.
   Once in the safety of his own room Davy went straight to the bathroom sink,
filling the tumbler with enough water to wash down his eagerly awaited night's
earnings. Swallowing four of the white tablets at once he lay across the bed,
eyes closed, and waited for the relief to come.
           (Cannot get comfortable.. gotta make the place look like we had a
break-in.. gotta clean up my tracks)
   Twenty-five minutes later, adrift on the pleasure of his high, Davy was
snoring like a buzzsaw, fast asleep.
                                                                                     
*
   Two o'clock rolled around and the club emptied of its drunken patrons, most
of whom still celebrated in the street on their way home. Micky, Mike and Peter
remained seated at the table they'd occupied for most of the evening, a nervous
excitement shining clearly on their faces.
   "Excuse me gentlemen," a rather large man approached them, "but the club is
closing for the night, I'll have to ask you to leave now."
   "Oh," Mike answered, "well yes, but we have a meeting with the manager. If
you'll tell him we're here my good man-"
   "I'm sorry sir, but the manager is never on-site this late at night. She
doesn't feel comfortable about being here during drinking hours. There must be
some mistake."
   "Huh?" Micky asked in confusion. "Are yasure?"
   "We uh we got a phone call from the manager about meeting up with him to
discuss a potential gig - a mister Zucker - R.A. Zucker?"
   "I'm sorry gentlemen, no Zucker here. Let's get going fellows, I need to
lock up."
   "Sure man, no problem.. C'mon fellas."
   Leading his men to the door Mike mumbled under his breath, angry and
humiliated at having been duped.
   ".. WAIT just a COTTON PICKIN MINUTE! R.A. Zucker?" he shouted as they
neared the car.
   "What is it Michael?"
   Micky looked at him in confusion.
   "Doncha get it? The whole thing was a set-up - a gag - R.A. Zucker.. As in
You are a SUCKER?! Fellas we've beenhad!"
   "By who - and why?"
   "I dunno yet, but by golly I'm gonna find out!"
   Against his better judgment Micky gave up the car keys to Mike, he was sober
enough to drive after all but Micky was nervous about how angry he was: Mike
had a habit of taking it out behind the wheel (or Peter) when he was uptight.
As they pulled out onto the highway Mike jammed on the gas pedal. The GTO took
off in a spray of gravel and squeal of tires, making the drive back to the
beach house short and scary for the young drummer.
   Walking into the house there were two things on the Texan's mind he was
intent on getting his hands on to cool his temper: His lover - which must wait
until he was calmer - and his guitar. Playing music always soothed him and he
fully intended to lock himself in his room and do exactly that. First through
the door, he sensed immediately that something was wrong. Though the house was
dark, an intermittent flash of lightning illuminated the room briefly and Mike
knew at once that all was not well in his private sanctum.
   Flipping on the overhead light he surveyed the room, taking in the changes
from when they had left: Davy's jacket, damp and dripping, hanging in a tumble
off the back of the sofa. Sandy, muddy footprints leading from the bay doors to
the spiral staircase, ending at the Englishman's hastily discarded sneakers.
   Whirling about he turned immediately to the bandstand. Following his wide-
eyed stare Micky and Peter gaped at the obvious hole where Blond Beauty should
have been.
   They heard it before they saw him move for the stairs. A low growl emanating
from deep in his gut preceded Mike as he flew up the stairs with Micky and
Peter trailing behind him. Bursting through the bedroom door, he startled Davy
from his drug-induced sleep. Jerking him to his feet by his shirt collars, he
dragged him across the room slamming him against the wall.
   "Michael - please - don't!"
   "STAY THE HELL OUT OF THIS - BOTH OF YOU!" He snarled.
   Turning back to the object of his rage, he stepped closer till he was face
to face with the terrified young man.
   "You THIEVING MOTHER FUCKER! You LOUSY SON-OF-A-BITCH - where - WHERE IS
SHE?"
   ".. I-"
   Unable to find words in his stark fear Davy simply stared at him, trembling
and pale. His eyes struck wide with terror blinked as the sudden sweat forming
on his forehead trickled downward to sting them.
   "ANSWER ME! WHERE IS MY GUITAR?"
   "B-ben…” he sputtered finally.
   "- You traded my guitar to that slimycock-sucker for your damn pills -
DIDN'T YOU!"
   A strangled cry escaped Davy's throat as panic took over. Grasping him by
the front of his shirt Mike drew back his fist, pure rage twisting his face.
Squeezing his eyes shut against what he knew was about to come, Davy turned his
head and waited for the devastating blow. Quivering behind the door Micky and
Peter cringed against one another, unable to witness the carnage about to take
place - helpless to stop it from happening.
   In a flash Mike's hand shot forward with all the force he could muster,
driving forward, fully intending to connect with Davy's frightened, pale face.
At the last second, he veered to the right, his fist cracking through the wall
in a cloud of dust, chunks of plasterboard raining down on the carpet. Davy
sagged to the floor in a shuddering, whimpering mess, the bottle of pills
falling from his shirt pocket as he collapsed in a trembling heap.
   "Get the fuck out!"
   "Michael-"
   "I SAID GET OUTTA MY HOUSE! Don't bother walking through my living room, go
out the balcony door - GET OUT NOW!"
   "M-my shoes.."
   "They'll beoutside," Mike said staunchly, "get out and take your crap with
you," he said, throwing the bottle of pills at him.
   Without a word or a glance behind him, Davy struggled to his feet. On watery
knees, he stepped out into the night, closing the door behind him. Brushing
past his bandmates Mike rushed downstairs and gathering the youth’s jacket and
shoes tossed them out the bay doors into the rain. As he closed and locked the
door, Peter came down the steps, a heartbroken look on his face.
   "Micky said he needs some time alone, he'll be down later to talk. If you
don't need anything from me Michael, I'm going to go to bed."
   Too angry to speak Mike dismissed him with a wave of his hand, staring out
at the storm into the darkness, a thunderous black void that matched the one in
his angry heart.
   Up in his room Micky cried into Davy's pillow, hugging it against him for
comfort. Picking up his phone, he punched in the number and waited, praying for
an answer on the other end of the line. On the fourth ring his prayers were
answered.
   "Hello?"
   "It's me, Micky. I need you…”
                                                                              
       *
   "Damn!"
   "What is it Paisano?"
   "Davy is gone. Apparently, the whole meeting at the club about a job was a
ruse to get the boys out of the house tonight; while they were gone, Davy stole
Mike’s guitar and traded it for drugs. It's a one-of-a-kind twelve string
Gretsch and he is very angry, naturally. He has thrown Davy out of the house
and nobody knows where he is. I'm sorry Robbie, I have to go!"
   "Of course, I understand! Paisano you've been drinking, are you able to
drive?"
   "Amico I appreciate your concern, but with the news I've just received,
believe me, I'm stone cold sober."
   "The weather is rough, please be careful."
   "Farò il mio vecchio amico, I am needed not invincible, I'll drive safely.
I'll let you know when I arrive home."
   "Grazie, I'll do the same."
   As he left the restaurant, Tony called Davy's phone in hopes of locating his
wayward charge. When nobody answered, he left him a message.
   "Kiddo it's Tony, please - don’t be afraid to call me back. I know what's
happened Davy and I'm not angry with you, I just want to know that you're all
right. Please, even a text message - something - I'm on my way home now, please
let me hear from you il mio piccolo amore perduto - my little lost love."
                                                                                     
*
   Mike was sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee when Micky finally came
downstairs. Wandering blindly into the kitchen he stared blankly at the Texan,
a bleak expression on his normally bubbly features. Lost in a fog he had no
words, thinking only of his little one and where he could be on this wretched
stormy night.
   "If you're gonna pick a fight about this, do it now while Peter is asleep,"
Mike said flatly, "he's upset enough as it is."
   "I didn't come down here to argue or fight Mike. I came to talk."
   "Then have a seat Micky, I'll get us both some coffee."
   Slumping into his usual chair Micky waited for his longtime friend to come
back to the table. When he did, Micky spoke before he could lose his nerve.
   "I'm not pissed at you. I was, but I understand how you must be feeling
right now man. I don't know that I wouldn't have done the same thing in your
place. That doesn't mean I'm not upset, I'm worried about him - he's all messed
up and alone, out in this shitty weather - and he's got that bottle of pills
with him, I'm so scared he's gonna do something .. stupid."
   "Aww hell.. THAT would be on me.I sent him out there with them."
   "I don't know what to do Mike. I went over to Tony's to see if he was holed
up over there under the awning or something.. the house is locked up tight and
he isn't there. I looked around on the beach but it's deserted. I'm so
confused. Deep down I know Davy is a great guy, but I don't feel like I know
him anymore."
   "It's the pills Mick, Davy IS a great guy, he'd give the shirt off his back
for anybody and -"
   ".. What is it Mike?"
   ".. And I just picked a fucking guitar over our Tiny. I am such an asshole.
We need to call Tony."
   "Already did, he's on his way."
   "Have you tried to call Davy's phone?"
   "Repeatedly, he keeps hitting the piss off button."
   "Maybe we should-"
   His thought was interrupted by the shrill ringing of the house phone: it was
Tony.
   "Hello Mike, has anyone heard from Davy yet?"
   "No man I'm afraid not. I suppose you're mad at me.."
   "I'm upset Mike, but I'm not angry. You reacted to being hurt; it's quite
human of you."
   "I think we should go out n look for Tiny."
   "No! Stay put, I'm almost there and we'll make a decision together when I
get there. He isn't likely to respond on a positive note if he sees you right
now, let's just sit tight. I should be there in twenty minutes."
   "Okay man, you're the guardian. We'll be waiting for ya."
   "Was that Davy?"
   The two men turned to see a sleepy, red-eyed Peter standing across the room.
   "I thought you were going to bed Cotton?"
   "I couldn't sleep; I've been so worried about…you know"
   "It's okay babe, we're all worried about Tiny. That was Tony on the phone;
he should be here in just a bit."
   "Are - are you two.. okay?"
   "We're fine big Pete," Micky smiled weakly, "and we're gonna stay that way."
   "Groovy," Peter smiled, "I'll put on some tea."
                                                                                     
*
    Wet and shivering Davy had drifted down the beach in the storm, his rain-
soaked jacket doing little to protect him from the chill he felt both inside
and out. Tears mingled with the raindrops that ran down his cheeks, his entire
body trembling - not from the cold - but from the stark realization that he had
just lost everything that mattered to him.
   He found himself wandering the streets of town with no recollection of
having moved in that direction - not that it mattered - he had no place to go,
no one to turn to. His phone had been ringing in his pocket, mostly Micky
calling, and he'd repeatedly ignored the incoming intrusion with a swift jab of
his thumb - he wanted no sympathy, no pleading to come back or reveal his
location. Mike's decision had been quite clear: He wanted him gone.
        And rightly so.
   A familiar strip of buildings loomed ahead of him and he recognized them as
the office complex where Paul kept his counseling practice. Spotting the wide
awning above he propelled himself in its direction, his soggy sneakers
squeaking on the sidewalk with every step. Crouched on the steps against the
side of the building he leaned against the wall, finally out of the rain,
burying his face in his hands.
                                                                                     
*
   In the gray of the pre-dawn morning and dark of the storm, the headlights of
Tony's Maserati shone brightly as he pulled into the driveway of the boys’ pad.
Wasting no time with the politeness of knocking he burst through the front door
with a gust of wind and rain pushing him along. Shedding his storm-slicked
jacket he headed straight to the melancholy group gathered at the kitchen
table.
   "Gentlemen, has anyone heard from Davy?"
   "Hey Tonio, no. He won't answer or call back."
   "Man, I'm sorry," Mike began, "I shouldn't have.. I should’a -"
   "Did you hit him Mike?" Tony interrupted flatly.
   " ... No! I wanted to, almost did. There's a big hole in the wall upstairs..
"
   "Did you hurt him in any way?"
   "No."
   "Have you turned him in to thepolice?"
   "Man it's Tiny - I cain't do that!"
   "Then stop apologizing. What he has done is off the charts wrong and
inconceivable. I'm going to try Mike, hard as I can, to fix this. Any idea
where the guitar is?"
   "Worthington has it," Micky sneered.
   "I figured as much."
   "There's fresh coffee and tea Tony," Peter offered, "a 'good cuppa' as Davy
would say will warm you up."
   "Thank you Peter. Coffee, please. We've got to find Davy first, then we'll
see what we can do about your guitar."
   "How are we supposed to find him if he won't even answer his phone?"
   "I don't know amici; I've been wracking my brain all the way here."
   "Simple," Peter said, setting the steaming mug in front of Tony, "Nicky."
   "Whatta you mean Pete?"
   "The only one that I personally believe Davy won't blow off is Nicky. Have
him call Davy."
   "Cotton that's brilliant!"
   "I think you may have something there Peter! I'm going to call Nicky now."
                                                                                     
*
   Miles away cold and alone Davy contemplated his few options, huddled under
the scant shelter of the vinyl canopy above. He had obviously ruined his new
life here in California with Micky and the guys, his budding music career going
down the toilet with it. Even if Tony were willing to continue as his guardian,
he could not possibly live next door to the place that had once been his haven,
to say nothing of the people who would certainly continue to dwell inside. He
could return to England but it wasn't what he wanted - not as a ward of the
Shire at any rate - and that left little else. He could start over somewhere -
anywhere - on his own, but he'd have to get some money somehow and that
presented a problem: Tony had cut off all access to his bank account and taken
away his charge cards.
   Frustrated and chilled he wiped away fresh tears, jamming his cold hands
into the pockets of his thin coat and - what was this?
           (Oh shit ... )
   He pulled the bottle from his pocket eyeing it like the prize from a
cracker-jack box, the wheels in his mind turning quickly as to what he could
accomplish with his find - surely enough to stop even the stoutest of men dead
in their tracks - and it hit him hard, this revelation. Everything he'd done
that had hurt those he loved washed through his thoughts in a painful series of
images, and pocketing the bottle Davy found his resolve: He knew what he had to
do - how to put an end to the trouble and grief he'd brought to so many lives.
Pulling out his cell phone, he made the call to make all the final arrangements
- putting everyone out of their misery - himself included.
                                                                                     
*
   "Well, what'd he say?"
   "I explained everything to him Mike," Tony said, rejoining them at the
table, "he is calling him and messaging him as we speak."
   " ... everything?"
   "Relax my friend. He is upset but not angry with anyone. All we can do for
the moment is wait to hear from Nicky; if he doesn't get anywhere with him,
we're going to take action ourselves at first light."
   "You mean go look for him?"
   "Yes amici, I see no alternative. He has enough medication on him to
overdose and I'm not sure of his emotional state right now. We'll make
decisions about who-"
   Interrupted by his cell phone, Tony immediately answered Nicky's call.
   "Ciao il mio Nicky, qualsiasi parola? Meraviglioso! What did he say?"
   Like small children surrounding a storyteller, the boys closed in on Tony in
a semi-circle, bright-eyed and eager to hear of their young mate's
circumstances.
   "Grazie my Nicholas, I'll call you afterwards. I love you too. Ciao."
   "Well? Did he talk to Tiny?"
   "He did; Peter you were absolutely brilliant to think of Nicky! They spoke
briefly of what took place - from the theft to the confrontation here. While
Davy would not disclose his location he asked Nicky to assure everyone that
heis safe, and that he promises that we will hear from him today - most likely
late this morning."
   "Oh! Thank goodness!"
   "Good," Mike nodded, "that's real good."
   The pure comfort that washed over Micky was absolutely palpable as his
entire frame visibly relaxed, a breathy gush of air escaping his lungs in a
heartfelt sigh of relief.
   "He's okay!" he said, barely above a whisper, "My little one is okay."
   Squeezing Micky's shoulder lightly, Tony spoke up.
   "I cannot speak for anyone but myself but I can assume everyone is as
exhausted as I am. I think the best thing we can all do is get a little rest,
it’s not quite five-thirty, if we all lay down now we can be awake and waiting
for Davy by say ten o'clock?"
   "What if we miss him? I don't know if I'll hear an alarm clock!"
   "I WILL amici. If it's alright with you Mike, I'd like to camp out on your
couch for a few hours."
   "Fine by me. I'll set my alarm too; we'll be up in time Mick."
   "I'll set one too Micky," Peter smiled.
   " ... well, okay - but I'm sleeping down here on the other couch - just in
case."
   "Suit yourself, but we need to get to bed."
***** Chapter 20 *****
   At ten o'clock Tony was in the kitchen pouring coffee into four large mugs
when the boys came stumbling half-blind and sleep-fogged into the small nook.
Shuffling into their usual seats, with Peter still attached to Mike's shoulder;
they happily accepted the steaming cups as Tony put on another pot.
   "Any word from Davy?"
   "No Micky, nothing yet. I've been awake for half an hour, but he did say
late morning, let's just wake up and deal with things as they come."
   "Do you think he's gonna call - or come to the house?"
   "The way I acted Cotton I seriously doubt he'll show up here, I'm sorry
fellas."
   "Well he didn't say one way or the other," Tony tried to reassure, "but all
we can do is wait and see."
   "I'm so scared I'm never gonna see him again."
   "Amici, don't do this to yourself. Tutto ciò che è destinato a essere sarà,
no?"
   "I hate it when y'all do that!"
   "I'm sorry Mike," Tony chuckled "I say that what's meant to be will be."
   "I know you're right, but.. Tone he is everything to me."
   "To me as well, I-"
   "There's a car in the driveway," Peter interrupted.
   "Let me get the door!" Tony insisted, as everyone flew from their seats. "If
it is Davy let's not frighten him away!"
   Hanging back in anxious apprehension, the boys clung together in a huddle
near the table as Tony moved to answer the door. Uneasy with his own case of
nerves, Tony braced himself as he reached for the knob and swung the door open.
   "Good morning."
   "Paul! Good morning! Please, come in."
   "Ah good, all of you are together. I need to speak to everyone if I might."
   "It's peculiar but impeccable timing that you should come by, we're in a bit
of a crisis situation this morning," Tony offered as they walked into the
kitchen.
   "Not so peculiar really, Davy called me very early this morning."
   "He did?"
   "Really!"
   "What did he say?"
   "Ahh now, you know I'm not at liberty to divulge any of that information.
What I have been asked to do however is to ask your permission Mike, for Davy
to come in and speak to everyone,just for a bit. I'll be with him to act as a
buffer and in a professional manner."
   "I reckon that'd be alright, is he with you now?"
   "Yes, he's sitting in my car. I'll go and bring him in, but please, no
fighting. This is something he has asked for and he is hoping can be a peaceful
process."
   "I assure you Paul, there will be no drama or violence. Right boys?"
   "No, we'll be mellow!"
   "Of course not!"
   "Tell Tiny it's gonna be fine."
   "Okay, we'll be right with you."
   "Why don't we move this to the living room. " Tony suggested, "there's more
seating and it's a little more comfortable."
   Tony, Micky and Peter situated themselves on the larger of the two sofas
while Mike - ever distant and always slightly uptight - sat in the recliner
between the two, leaving the smaller sofa for Paul and Davy. After a brief
knock on the door, the two stepped inside.
       You could have cut through the atmosphere with a butter knife.
   "Hey kiddo, it's so good to see you."
   "I've been so worried about you Davy!"
   "Little One! I'm so happy that you're alright!"
   Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Mike looked up at Paul.
   "Why don't y'all have a seat there," he said in a small voice, much unlike
himself.
   "I .. thank you Mike fer letting me come in. I won't keep you guys too
long," Davy stammered as he sat on the love seat beside Paul.
   "Before Davy get's into what he has to say,' Paul interjected, "I want
everyone to understand that everything that's taken place or is about to was
his decision alone."
   Nodding briefly and clearly very nervous, Davy began again.
   "Petah, I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I have done so much that's hurt
or frightened you, not thinking of anyone but myself. You've always stood up
fer me, even when I least deserved it. You've been the best friend a guy could
ahsk for. I've said such hateful things and cussed at you, and you've nevah
been anything but kind to me. I .. I stole your radio, and traded it to Ben fer
pills. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, though I know I
don't deserve it. I'm so sorry."
   "I love you Davy," Peter said through his tears, "you're like a kid brother
to me. Of course I forgive you."
   "Thank you Petah, so very much."
   Turning his attention to Micky, Davy struggled to maintain his composure as
he looked into the eyes of his true love.
   "Micky luv, I've taken advantage of you in so many ways. I've treated you
like crap, talked to you with such a mean heart - even ahsked you to lie fer me
- to let me get away with things. I've put you in a position to be torn between
me and yer best friend; not a very good boyfriend I've been. Knowing how much
you wanted to see me get bettah I kept secretly using, worried only bout the
craving n 'ow to feed it. You've been the greatest thing that's evah come into
my life. I'm so sorry fer treating you like you'd always be there, like I was
the important one.. Please Micky, if you can find it in yer heart, please
forgive me."
   "Dave, I love you. Sometimes it isn't easy to do, but you are the best thing
that ever happened to me. Whatever happens, I'm always gonna love you and be
here for you. I forgive you my little one."
   Tears were flowing freely down the boyish face as Davy nodded in his
direction, the faintest sad smile on his lips. Wiping his eyes with his coat
sleeve, he turned to Tony.
   "Tony, you've changed my life in so many wonderful ways and given me a brand
new stahrt. You've been so patient and kind, trying to understand me and give
me a chance when others wanted to throw in the towel. Picked up and moved
hundreds of miles from your home so I could be with Nicky and Micky. Loved me
when I wasn't very lovable. I've not appreciated you very much, at least not
with my actions. I've lied to your face, disobeyed you, and deceived you. Yet
yer still 'ere. I love you and I hope you won't give up on me, but if you do, I
know it's me own fault. I'm sorry Tony, and I pray you can forgive me too."
   "Piccola mia perso, il mio amore! Forgiveness isn't even a question in my
mind! I love you Davy, and I'm not quitting on you. I know your heart mi amore
- you are so good - you have merely gone astray. Famiglia per sempre, together
we will always be."
   With only Mike remaining the tension in the room was palpable. The air had
become thick and heavy, seeming as if the oxygen in it had simply vanished.
        Everyone held their breath.
   Rising from the sofa Davy forced his legs to move, coming to stand before
Mike, his entire body trembling in fear and reverence. Stopping a foot in front
of the recliner he dropped to his knees, and taking a breath, he spoke in low
tones.
   "Mike, I won't blame you if you don't want to hear from me, but I'd like to
say something to you if it's alright."
   Unable to bring himself to speak, Mike nodded his assent, his hands gripping
the arms of the chair tightly to hide his own nervousness.
   "Thank you. There is so much I wanna say to you - I don't even know where to
stahrt. You have been to me the older brother, stern and full of guidance;
you've been a mentor - 'elping me develop my musical abilities and song writing
skills - a great friend, giving me sound advice and a good scolding when I've
needed it. You've given me a good, safe and loving home - your home - to live
in … Accepting me with open arms with my differences and quirks, with a
friendly smile. Mike I've disrespected you so many times, talked to you like
you were nobody. I've taken advantage of your generosity and stolen from you -
and yet here I am in your 'ouse, given the opportunity to speak my peace. I
don't even have it in me to ahsk your forgiveness Mike, and I don't expect any
special treatment from you, but I do want you to know how terrible I feel
inside for the way I've done you. I am sorry.. I know that doesn't mean much,
I've said it so many times. I have something for you - sort of peace offering -
in the car. May I get it and bring it inside?"
   Again unable to find his tongue, Mike nodded mutely.
   Out the door in a flash Davy came back with a large black plastic bag in his
hands, and kneeling again before the man of the house he handed him the package
with his head down, humility and respect in his posture. Curious, the others
stood, crowding around to get a glimpse at the contents of the bag. Slowly and
with reluctance Mike pulled the string securing the top of the bag and opened
it, unaware that he was holding his breath. Hesitantly he peered inside, his
head immediately snapping up to meet Davy's hopeful eyes.
   Gingerly he reached into the depths of the bag and with careful hands drew
out the gift, drawing delighted gasps from the group around him. Clutching it
against him and cradling it like a baby, he held his treasured guitar - his
Blond Beauty - grinning from ear to ear.
   "Oh my God!" Peter exclaimed.
   "Way to goDavy!"
   "Kiddo I'm impressed! But how?"
   "He wanted desperately to make things right," Paul spoke up, "and he still
had most of the pills he traded it for. He asked me to help him try to get it
back so we went to Worthington's and he still had it. He wouldn't trade back
however - he wanted to make black market price for it. So we worked something
out and he gave us the guitar."
   "GAVE it to us?" Davy gaped. "You gave him five hundred dollars!"
   "You did WHAT?!" Mike finally spoke.
   "He didn't want to give the pills back, so that someone else didn't end up
with them." Davy said, "So he paid the price Ben wanted to get fer it on the
black mahrket! I promised 'im I'm gonna pay it back."
   "I cain't thank you enough for this.. neither of you. I'm just - I dunno
what to say."
   "How about welcome home?" Micky said softly.
   "Actually, I came to apologize to everyone," Davy said, coming to his feet,
"but I also came to say goodbye."
   "What?! Why?"
   "Little one, no - don'tleave!"
   "Davy, kiddo I don't understand?"
   "Look, whatevah my future here happens to be is something we can figure out
laytah. I.. I have something I hafta take care of first."
   "Yes," Paul said, "and I'm afraid we're about out of time Davy. Maybe
another ten minutes and we'll have to get going. Gentlemen, I want to let you
know that Davy has requested that I place him inpatient for the duration of his
treatment - his idea - and I have agreed that it is definitely necessary. He'll
be leaving with me from here to live at our facility in L.A. for two to six
months."
   "Oh my God. Davy I'm proud of you, but - six months?!"
   "Micky I cahn't do this here. I'm gonna miss all of you, but I need 'elp. I
want this to stop."
   "Kiddo it's a wise decision, and a difficult one - I'm sure. I'm very proud
of you Davy, it took a lot of courage to step up and ask for help."
   "Can we come and see him?"
   "I'm afraid not - not at first. The first two weeks - no visitors - no phone
calls. After that it depends a lot on Davy, his behavior and his effort to work
the program."
   "I'll work hard, I promise. I'm allowed to write and get lettahs anytime
though."
   "I'll write you as soon as you leave - and every day after that babe."
   "With your permission Mike, Davy needs to gather a few things from his room
- clothing and a few personal items. Unless you'd rather get them yourself or
accompany him upstairs."
   "That's fine," he mumbled, looking at the floor, "he can get whatever he
needs."
   "Thank you Mike, I won't be but a few minutes."
   "I'll come with you, if you don't mind."
   "I'd like that Micky."
   "How long do you expect his treatment to take - based on what you know - do
you think he'll be in for the whole six months?"
   "Truthfully Tony I do not. He is eager to beat this thing and our program is
rigid and thorough. If I had to estimate, I would say between two and three
months."
   "Do you need anything from me?"
   "I'll need your signature on a few forms, but that is something we can
manage on Monday morning. You know when he called me this morning, just before
five, I knew something was wrong - but I never would have guessed it was this.
He really had me fooled; I feel that I've failed him."
   "Don't beat yourself up Paul; he had everyone fooled, maybe even himself."
                                                                                     
*
    Upstairs Micky sat on the bed watching with mixed emotions as Davy packed a
week's worth of clothes and toiletries into his duffel bag.
   "Dave?"
   "Yes?"
   "Are you gonna .. Please come home when you finish your treatment."
   "I'd like to. I suppose that's not my decision though, is it? Worse case
scenario, I'll be living next door, and we can still be togethah. That is -
well - if you'll still 'ave me."
   "I love you Davy, I'm not letting you go."
   "I don't see how you can, but I love you too."
   "Davy," Paul called up the stairs, "It's about time to go."
   "C'mon little one, I'll walk you out."

   Down in the driveway Davy stood beside Paul's car wrapped tightly in Micky's
arms, inhaling his lover's scent to carry with him in his memory for the next
two weeks. Tony and Peter stood close by saying their good-byes and wishing him
well on his journey.
   "Here Davy, I want you to take this with you, he'll keep you safe while
you're up there by yourself, ya know - without us."
   "Petah! Not yer huggybear!"
   "It's okay; I'll be alright without him for a while if I know he's with you.
Please take him with you."
   "Thanks Pete, I'll take good care of 'im."
   "You're missing the point: He'll take good care of you."
   Smiling, Davy hugged his simple friend, eternally grateful for his
lighthearted wisdom.
   "I know it seems like forever, but trust me kiddo, two weeks will pass by
before you know it and we'll be up there to see you. Stay busy and stick to the
program, it will help to pass the time."
   "I'll miss you allso much."
   "Davy, we really need to get going, we have a long drive ahead of us and
they're expecting you to check in by two."
   "Yessir, coming."
   "You better behave up there and do whatever is part of your program little
one - I'm gonna kick your butt if I don't get to see you in two weeks! God Davy
I miss you already!"
   "I'll do me best Micky, I mean it. I love you."
   "I love you too, and I'll write you every day."
   "Davy?"
   "Yessir, coming now Paul."
   Placing his duffel in the back seat, he turned once more to the trio,
offering a tired smile. With all the courage he could muster he spun around,
opened the passenger front door, and climbed into the car. As Paul began to
back out of the drive, the front door of the house flew open with a bang.
   "TINY," Mike yelled, running down the gravel drive, "DAVY - WAIT!"
   Jamming on the brakes Paul stopped the car. Davy was out the door and on his
feet in a flash, falling into the waiting arms of his teary-eyed friend. For a
moment, they only stood, holding each other and rocking back and forth.
   "You listen to me! You go and do whatcha gotta do up'ere in that hospital ya
hear me! Whatever it is ya hafta do - so you can getcher tiny ass back home to
us. I love you Davy, and I do forgive you. Just get better, you hear me."
   "I will Mike, thank you. I love you too."
   "Go on now," he sniffled, "you don't wanna be late."
   "Right. I'll see you guys soon..I love you."
   "See you soon kiddo!"
   "Good luck Davy!"
   "I love you little one!"
   "Be good Tiny."
   Davy climbed back into the car and closed the door. The four men stood in
the driveway together waving him goodbye until he was out of sight. Turning to
go inside, Mike noticed that Micky stood in place, his body quivering with
unshed tears.
   "Hey shotgun, you comin'?"
   "Yaa, in a minute Mike. Thanks man, that was really groovy - what you did
with Davy."
   "Don't thank me Micky, I meant it. I cain't b'lieve I almost lost our Tiny
over a dadblamed guitar. Can you believe that kid? Goin up against Worthington
to get it back!”
   "Yaa, he's pretty special alright."
   "Mick," Mike said, slinging a brotherly arm around his shoulder, "he's comin
back, and soon. Come on inside man, get some breakfast. Besides, dontcha have a
letter to write?"
   "Yes, yes I do," he smiled. "Anyway Davy wouldn't want me to mope around
like this. Let's go."
***** Chapter 21 *****
   Tuesday morning's mail brought a letter from Davy and a huge smile to
Micky's face as he yelped loudly running up the stairs with his prize. Locked
in their bedroom he curled up with Davy's pillow and read the note twice before
tucking it into his night table drawer.

                                              Dear Micky,
                                          Wow do I miss you already! This place
is wild - it's not bad or anything,
                                          but is very strict and comes with a
tightly run schedule. I only have an
                                          hour each day of 'free time' to write
lettahs, clean my room or finish up any
                                          assignments that I have, but I'll do
my best to write every day. I'm sorry to
                                          say that I got a demerit already, I
got in a fight with this jerk and even
                                          though he started it, we both got in
trouble. They have me back on Suboxone
                                          but the withdrawals are hell, I spent
the first night in the bathroom puking
                                          my guts up. The food is okay and I
can hardly wait to see you all. Gotta go for
                                          now. Tell everyone I said hello. I
love you.
                                                                                                                  
Yours Forever ~
                                                                                                                                    
Davy
  "Got your scrappy little ass in troublealready," he said, smiling up at the
ceiling.
   His energy level fully restored he bounced out of bed and headed down to
update everyone on their miscreant Monkee, sliding down the banister as opposed
to taking the stairs.
   "So," Mike said as he landed at the bottom, "are ya gonna tell us what he
said?"
   He misses us and says hello, he said it's REALLY strict up there and the
food is so-so. He threw up all night Saturday from the withdrawals and he got
in a fight.. They gave him demerits or whatever."
   "He'd best be coolin' that temper or they may not let him have visitors.
When you write him next, tell him we say hello."
   "I will.. do ya think they'd really do that?"
   "They don't take kindly to trouble-makin Micky and they getcha to stop in
whatever way they can. Even loss of privileges."
   " ... Shit."
   "Morning boys," Tony greeted as he came in, "need to have a family meeting,
now."
                                                                                     
*
   Leaving the infirmary Davy was instructed to go straight to Paul's office, a
directive that left him feeling worse than the injuries he'd sustained in his
second fight in four days. His now-nervous stomach was doing flips, adding to
the discomfort he'd been feeling for days as a result of being weaned (and
painfully so) from the opiates he'd become so used to taking. Taking a deep
breath (and praying he wasn't in deep shit) he rapped on Paul's office door and
waited for the scolding he was certain was coming.
   "Ahh Davy," Paul said as he opened the door, "come on in kiddo, we need
totalk."
   "Am I in trouble?" he asked before fully seated.
   "I'm not sure, but based on the reports I've read you were not the aggressor
in either of the altercations you were involved in. Why don't you tell me what
happened."
   "Well, the first time we were in the orientation group and I 'ad me turn
introducing myself n wot, said why I'm 'ere n a bit about my life ya see.
Apparently this guy 'as a problem with my.. lifestyle choice. Stahrts making
queer jokes n such and well I ignored 'im fer the most part but it went on fer
twenty minutes! I turned round n told 'im to bugger orf n he decked me, so I
clocked 'im one."
   "I see. What happened today?"
   "Same fella - this Myron whatevah - well we've both been assigned to the
same Tuesday group session and Miss Tracy called me up to talk about my
addiction. As I walked pahst 'im he sticks a foot out and trips me - flat on my
face I went! I got to my feet and she called me on it - saw I was ready to
crack 'is skull - so I backed orf n turned to continue to the front of the
class. Myron gets up n says 'Stupid Limey Faggot' - and jumps me from behind!
We rolled around on the floor fer a minit - me gettin the shit pounded outta me
- and by the time I stahrted to get my bearings security came in and broke it
up."
   "That's pretty much the way staff wrote up these incidents. Considering that
Mr. Felsnik has attacked you twice with no provocation, staff and I have agreed
to remove the two demerits from your record Davy. Aside from these two events
you've been a model patient."
   "Thanks, I'm trying."
   "Now, on to the real business."
   "Uh-oh."
   "How are you sleeping?"
   "Pretty good considering it's a strange place. Why?"
   "You sure about that? Wouldn't keep anything from me would you?"
   "No Sir! That is NOT gonna get me outta here!"
   "Okay, I believe you. I want you to watch a video Davy; it's a surveillance
tape of your room."
   "Yervideo taping me?"
   "New clients with severe addictions are on suicide watch for the first week
or two, but what we caught on camera is.. well, a bit of a concern. Take a
look."
   Opening the double panels of the armoire behind him, Paul revealed a small
TV set and a VCR. Working quickly he set the tape in motion, Davy sitting
enthralled as he watched himself sleeping on the screen. At first it was fairly
benign: a young man asleep peacefully in his bed. Then suddenly Davy was
thrashing and moaning, pleading for an invisible assailant to 'please stop'.
Pale and shaken by what he saw Davy was unable to tear himself away from the
living nightmare before him. He watched himself double over protectively in the
bed, calling out loudly 'Please Ben, no more!' As the video fizzled into a
snowy screen he sat trembling, his eyes suddenly fascinated with the carpet
beneath his feet, unable to look up at Paul.
   "I take it you understand what that's all about," Paul said softly. "Take a
moment to compose yourself Davy, then I'd like for you to tell me what you
can."
                                                                                     
*
   "Is everything okay?"
   "It's about Davy - isn't it!"
   "Is Tiny alright?"
   "Yes and no. I got a call from Paul a few minutes ago, in spite of the
visitation policy, he wants us to come up tomorrow for a family session. They
monitor most of the incoming patients for suicide with in-room video cameras,
and they picked up on some nightmares that Davy's been having since he got
there. Paul confronted him with the video and got a very .. heartbreaking
revelation."
   "He didn't try to hurt himself did he?"
   "No, nothing like that. We need to head up as soon as possible, he wants us
up there at eight a.m. - I've already made arrangements for a hotel."
   "For corn sakes man what in tarnation is happening to Tiny?!"
   "Apparently Worthington was getting his jollies with him - abusing him in a
way - in trade for pills when Davy stopped stealing for him. He wants to tell
us what happened, but he only wants to do it once, so we're all going up for a
session or two, with Paul there for professional support. Start packing, we
leave in an hour."
   "What did he do to him?"
   "Amici, everything I know I've just told you. I understand that you're very
upset, but I have no more information. To go a step further, this is going to
be terribly painful and difficult for Davy to talk about, so everyone - and I
mean everyone - needs to keep it together. He needs our strength and support
now more than ever. We can all come unglued back at the hotel, but in front of
Davy, strength and love."
   "Poor Davy!" Peter breathed.
   "C'mon Peter, let’s go pack."
   "Coming Michael."
   " ... Tonio?" Micky ventured when they were alone.
   "Yes Micky?"
   "He.. he didn't - abuse him like - sexually.. did he?"
   "I wish I could assure you he didn't, but I know nothing more than I've said
to you,truly. I'm sorry amici."
   "Thanks Tone, I'm gonna go pack."
                                                                                     
*
   Wednesday morning Davy awoke early, having slept little, and decided to give
it up for the night. Nervous about the family session scheduled for eight
o'clock he had very little appetite but forced himself to eat some breakfast -
house rules would restrict him from his meds if he didn't - and took a shower.
At seven-fifteen, he arrived at Paul's office for their agreed-upon pre-session
meeting.
   "Morning kiddo, was starting to think I was gonna have to send out the MP's
to come get you," he chuckled.
   "Morning. M'sorry I'm late, I got tagged for a random room sweep."
   "I assume since I haven't gotten any urgent messages that they didn't find
anything they shouldn't have."
   "No sir, no drugs, contraband, unswallowed meds, weapons or anything else on
the list. I am NOT getting in trouble - goin 'ome a soon as I'm recovered."
   "Good man, I didn't expect they'd find anything on you Davy; you can sit
down you know."
   "Oh .. right. Sorry."
   "Nervous?"
   "You have no idea."
   "Butterflies in the stomach eh?"
   "I dunno, these feel more like bats.. Ostriches - lil bit bigger at least,"
he managed with a wavery grin.
   "Let's see your journal kiddo - you did complete the assignment I gave you
right?"
   "Yessir, though it's got a lot of scribbling and eraser marks on it."
   "Not a surprise, it's tough to put these things on paper sometimes. Let's go
over as much as we can before the session, so you'll be more at ease and able
to talk about things. Remember Davy, whatever we don't cover today can be dealt
with over the next few days, there is no time constraint, no hurry. Okay?"
   "Yaa, alright."
                                                                                     
*
   At precisely eight a.m. Tony, Micky and the boys knocked on the door to
Paul's office at the Los Angeles Community Hospital. Tense and jittery, Davy
jumped in his seat, much less than evenhe expected from himself.
   "You ready big guy?"
   Pale and unable to form words, Davy simply nodded, his hands gripping the
arms of the wingback chair so tightly his knuckles all but disappeared in the
whiteness of his skin.
   "Good morning gentlemen, punctual as always. Won't you come in and have a
seat?"
   First through the door it was Micky's intention to rush to Davy, sweeping
him into an emotional and passionate embrace. One look at his tense posture and
the strain on his face stalled him in his tracks however, and heeding Tony's
words in the elevator, he slowed his pace and approached his anxious young
lover with cautious movement.
   "Hey little one," he spoke softly, "I've missed you so much."
   "M-Micky! I miss you too, can I .. are we allowed to hug Paul?"
   "Of course Davy," he laughed, "You're in treatment, not jail. Family
sessions allow for a little more contact than visits, by all means, hug your
loved-ones!”
   "C'mere baby," Micky smiled, relieved to be able to hold his love.
   "Don't hog him Micky; you have a line behind you in case you didn't know!"
   "All right Tony, jeez," he grinned.
   "Hey kiddo, we miss you back at the home front," Tony said embracing his
charge.
   "Hey Tony, you look good."
   "My turn, y'all cain't keep Tiny all to yourselves."
   "Mike, it's good to see you!" Davy said, stretching to hug the tall Texan.
   "Good to see you too, you're keeping them on their toes aren't ya?"
   "Yaa well it's kinda mutual," he smiled broadly.
   Hanging back with an easy smile, Peter patiently waited his turn to hug his
little friend. His smile spread from ear to ear when Davy turned to him with
open arms
   "Petah! C'mere big guy n gimme a hug - gosh I've missed you! "
   "I brought you some chocolate Davy," he said as they hugged, "I miss you
too!"
   "If you'll all take a seat I'd like to get started, there's coffee, bottled
water and coke over there if anyone wants it.”
   "Thank you Paul, that’s very kind of y-"
   Tony was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door, which Paul promptly
answered.
   "Come on in, we were just getting seated.”
   "I'm sorry I'm late, I had a hard time getting a taxi."
   "Nicky!" Davy cried, rushing to his brother's side, "I 'ad no idea you were
coming!"
   "Aw come here bubba, do you think I'd be a no-show when you need me little
bro? "
   "God it's good to see you!"
   "It's great seeing you too Davy, and you look better - I'm so proud of you!”
   "D'yer want some coffee or something? "
   "Coffee sounds great!"
   "Wonderful to have you here mi amore, I'm glad you could come. Any issues
with you leaving school?"
   "No sir, I was granted a FLA, it won't be held against me. "
   "Is everyone situated?" Paul asked from behind his desk.
   Silent nods and a heavy tension suddenly thickened the air, as the happy
reunion became the purposeful meeting it was intended to be.
   "Okay first off, Davy has agreed to allow me to record these sessions purely
for clinical purposes; does anyone object to being audio-taped? No? Good."
   Placing his recorder on the desk, he punched the appropriate buttons to set
the tape in motion.
   "David Jones family session one. Okay, some ground rules: Be courteous, let
whoever has the floor finish what they have to say - there will be time to
speak for everyone. Heckling and bullying are not allowed. If anyone needs a
break at any time, speak up. Indoor voices please and remember why we're all
here. Davy and I spoke briefly beforehand and he has decided that as opposed to
a question and answer session he would like to tell his story to you. Patience
is key and no one should be afraid to let their emotions show. Davy, are you
ready kiddo?"
   "Yes.. I know you guys have a vague idea of what I'm going to tell you, but
the details are not pleasant and.. well this is gonna fucking suck, straight
up. So please, bear with me."
   He paused here, gathering himself together under the guise of drinking
water, his hands trembling as he lifted the bottle to his lips.
   "You all know that I'd been.. stealing things - from around the house -
trading what I could to Rocket fer pain pills. He wasn't very fair about it,
price wise, but I 'ad no money so I didn't see much choice. Ahftah the first
few times it got easier, but he stahrted ahsking fer specific things - n I felt
so guilty.. Told 'im I was on restrictions that prevented me from getting
anything and I offered to do some work; ‘is ’ouse is filthy. Mow the yard,
cleaning and such. He said okay and watched my ev'ry move with this weird
expression - I thought it was just because 'e was high - I was way off."
   "You're doing great Davy, how are you holding up?”
   "M'alright Paul, the 'ard part is coming next."
   "Need a minute?"
   "No sir, not yet. Anyway, Ben wanted me to clean off the back patio, it was
covered in leaves n brush - some dried branches and wot - I.. he …”
   "Take your time kiddo and don't be afraid, it's just us."
   "Thanks Tony, it's just - I'm so.. ashamed."
   "Tiny, we've all got stuff that's not easy to say, stuff we're embarrassed
by; but we're family. If it'd make you feel better about saying whatever it is
that's got you tongue-tied, I would smash ol Beauty to bits right here and now.
Nothing - NOTHING is more important than supporting the ones you love."
   "I love you too Mike," Davy smiled into his lap, "thanks mate."
   Shifting in his seat Davy leaned forward, resting his forearms on the front
of the massive oak desk, his face out of everyone's sight but Paul's.
   "I was bagging the brush into a big black trash bag - for a reason I didn't
get in the beginning, Ben always told me to wear my red swim trunks - no shirt
or shoes.. Anyway, I was bent ovah shoving this crap in the bag and 'e .. hit
me."
   "Oh my god," Micky breathed.
   "Easy amici," Tony whispered.
   "He had picked up a willow switch orf the ground," Davy continued, "and
swung it with all he could, crackin’ me square on the backside. I stood up n
spun round gaping at 'im - and he looked totally psyched, and.. strangely
amused."
   "Oh Bubba!" Nicky said through his tears, "I’m so sorry!
   "I said 'what the fuck Ben!' He smiled and said 'here, that was fucking
AWESOME, you deserve a treat' - and handed me two hydro tens. I was s-so 'ard-
up fer a high I d-didn't say anothah word."
   "I'm calling a fifteen minute break," Paul interrupted, "Davy will you come
with me please?"
   " ... Yessir."
   "You men feel free to stretch your legs and help yourself to more drinks.
We'll just be a moment."
   Out in the hallway Davy looked up at Paul with concern in his already
troubled eyes.
   "Did I do something wrong?"
   "No Davy not at all. I thought they needed a few minutes to absorb what they
have heard, and I want to give you another very mild sedative - just something
to settle your nerves - I can see your heartbeat hammering away in your neck.
Follow me."
   "You wait till I see that son-of-a-"
   "Micky, the tape is still running,” Tony warned.
   "Ya need to get it together shotgun, I gotta feeling this is just the tip of
the bull's horn."
   "Do you need to step out of this mi amici?"
   "No way am I leaving! This is killing me but if it's that hard for me what
was it like for Davy? I'll be fine I was just blowing steam. He needs all of
us."
   "Atta boy Micky!" Peter chimed in.
   "When you do come across Worthington," Mike whispered conspiratorially, "you
damn well better make sure I'm with you!"
   "I can handle him!" He whispered back.
   "I know that, but you ain't having all the fun to yourself!"
   "Nicky what is that pill you're taking?" Tony asked.
   "It's a Benadryl papi, I need to calm down."
   "Nicky!"
   "Please don't scold Tony, it's not an opiate nor is it habit-forming - my
guidance counselor suggested it!"
   "I wasn't my love, I thought it was brilliant! Perhaps you have one for
Micky?"
   "Absolutely," he grinned, "and anyone else who wants one."
   "Why do you think Paul took Davy out of the room?" Peter wondered.
   "He was pretty uptight shotgun; I'd wager he wanted to give him some space."
   As if the simple mention of his name were a magical key, Paul materialized
at that moment with a somber Davy at his side.
   "Okay, Davy has taken a breather and is ready to continue. Unless of course
anyone else is not prepared to move forward."
   Looking from one to the other nobody spoke up, so taking his seat (and
slightly glassy-eyed) Davy ventured on.
   "Ben knew what my tolerance was, and just 'ow many milligrams it took to
level me orf. He told me to take a break n sit with 'im.. I should've known
something was up. I drank a beer and was stahrting to feel good when he began
questioning me. About.. my sex life."
   Micky visibly paled at his words, his worst fears racing around in his brain
faster than he could register them as conscious thoughts. To his credit, he
gave no other outward indication that on the inside he was dying.
   "He wanted to know if we did certain things; and Micky I swear to you,” he
said passionately, turning to take his hands, “I didn’t tell him anything! Our
private time is too sacred to me to share with the likes of Ben Worthington."
   "I love you little one, and I believe you. Thank you."
   "When I wouldn't give details," Davy went on, "he shifted tracks.. ahsked if
I'd evah played any S&M or bondage games. I said no, I wasn't really into that
stuff. He'd been walking towards me and was standing above me now.. I was
leaning back on the chaise, practically sinking into it at this point. He said
'you wanna keep getting your fix? You'll learn how to get into it, real quick'.
He still 'ad the willow switch, tracing it along me stomach. I was terrified
and couldn't move - could barely breathe. I saw it coming and was 'elpless to
stop it. He raised his arm and brought it down fahst, crackin me in the jewels
with the switch."
                                                                                      
*
   With two more breaks in-between, they called it a day at eleven o'clock.
Everyone was overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted, needing desperately to eat,
sleep or cry it off. After a few teary goodbyes, Tony and the boys went back to
the hotel, leaving Davy in Paul's caring and capable hands.
   The next two days went along the same course, with the exception that
everyone but Paul began the session with some form of sedation. More horror
stories of Ben's hurtful actions - some not as bad - most much worse, came
pouring forth from Davy's lips to fall on the heartbroken ears of his family.
Finally, on Friday afternoon it was all told out, a huge weight shifting from
small, tired British shoulders to rest evenly among those of his five closest
mates.
   With Paul's permission, Davy was allowed to visit alone with Micky in the
sunroom, while he briefed the others on Davy's prognosis - with his consent of
course.
   "Do you think this is going to hinder the progress of his recovery?"
   "On the contrary Tony, while the incidents may have had an impact on him I
believe the damage was incurred in his increased drug usage. Getting this
painful experience off his chest and dealing with it is probably going to prove
to create his finest hour. He's a strong young man."
   "How much longer do you think Tiny will be here?"
   "My best guess, barring any setbacks, would be five or six weeks."
   "When can he have visits and phone calls?"
   "All things being considered Peter the staff and I have discussed Davy's
needs at great length. He has made monumental efforts, has followed every
detail of his personal program and been a model citizen here if you will. He
very much needs contact with all of you, so we're lifting the restrictions for
him effective immediately."
   "Thank you for doing so much for him Paul; you've really done so much more
than your professional obligations require of you."
   "I really think a lot of Davy, and I'd like very much to see him succeed.
Unless you have any other questions, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes."
   "Thank you Dr. Scott. My brother will be a better man because of you."
***** Chapter 22 *****
   Back in Malibu the house was quietly subdued, even more so than it was in
the absence of a certain rambunctious Englishman with an infectious laugh.
Physically tired and emotionally drained from the whole experience, each of
them sought solace in his own way:
   Nicky had gone back to school, throwing himself into his classes and kitchen
time, a productive effort to distract his mind from the nightmare his baby
brother had endured. He was proud of Davy's efforts and would do no less
himself to be as successful, giving his Bubba an equal reason to be proud.
   Alone on the back deck with his guitar Peter played folk music, melancholy
and wistful. The sea and sunset his only accompaniment, he communed alone with
nature and his soul's own rhapsody, drifting into a more peaceful place.
   Micky slept a lot, wrapped around Davy's pillow as if it were the man
himself, biding his time until he could call the hospital and speak to his
little one. As lonely as he was, it was the knowledge of Davy's suffering at
the hands of Ben Worthington that had him in this funk: Davy was such a sweet
and loving person, deserving none of what he had endured.
   Tony busied himself in his garden, pulling weeds and pruning absentmindedly,
his thoughts on Davy he nearly hacked his poor tomato plants into non-
existence. Throwing in with the tomatoes, he gave it up and went inside, opting
for an afternoon nap - rare for him - courtesy of a large amount of perfectly
aged whiskey.
   Mike - heartbroken over the knowledge that Davy had resorted to stealing his
guitar to put and end to the mindless torture that Ben Worthington was
administering - could not stand the sight of his most cherished possession.
Usually turning to his music when frustrated, he closed Blond Beauty in her
guitar case, storing her away in the closet. Attempting to appear the ever-
calm, sturdy Michael, he began chopping onions for the night’s supper - the
perfect place to mask a good cry.
   Sunday burned hot and clear, Mother Nature having finally graced Malibu with
her summer smile. Fed up with the dark, bluesy air about him Tony insisted that
everyone hit the beach with a picnic lunch.
   "I'm sorry Micky, but I'm putting my foot down on Davy's behalf. If he knew
we were all moping around here feeling miserable he would regret ever confiding
in us. Get changed, I'll finish making lunch."
   Heaving a sigh Micky made his way upstairs to find his swim trunks: He knew
that it was pointless to argue with Tony when he'd made up his mind.
   Slicing the pastrami Tony turned his gaze upon Mike who was sitting at the
table, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. Wordlessly the plucky Italian
raised an eyebrow, meeting the Texan's irritated glare head on. Squirming in
his seat, Mike finally broke eye contact.
   "Come on Peter," he said, huffing out of the chair, "let's go get changed."
        Apparently, Mike too knew when Tony meant business.
   Twenty minutes later, they were spread out in their usual spot in the sand,
with blankets, radio, frisbee and a fabulous basketful of food. The California
sun having worked its usual magic had done its part to raise everyone's
spirits. They were just about to begin a volleyball game against the red
rider's - when Ben Worthington came strolling up the beach.
   "Well, well - I see you're one man shy for volleyball Dolenz, need me tofill
in?" He laughed.
   "Take a hike Worthington," Tony warned, grabbing Micky by the arm as he
lunged toward Ben, "this part of the beach is off-limits to abusive, drug
pushing losers - not to mention hazardous to your health."
   "Ahh so the little Mary sang like a bird did he? Pity he went off wearing a
hug-yourself coat, he was a great little playmate. Did you kiss him goodbye
Micky? If so, tell me - how does my dick taste?"
   "YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!" Micky shouted, breaking free of Tony's iron grip.
   He was across the sand and pouncing on Ben Worthington before the others had
time to blink, venting every ounce of rage and pain through his fists in a
blind oblivious streak.
   "Micky! Tony yelled, dashing after his friend, Mike at his side.
   "Ohshit!" Mike yowled, grinning with delight in spite of the horde of
shocked onlookers.
   "Amici - stop! He isn't worth it!"
   Micky however was too far gone to hear him, hammering blow after blow at the
whimpering mess beneath him that was Ben Worthington. Mike and Tony together
were struggling to pull their frenzied friend from the bleeding man, but with a
final concentrated effort managed to dislodge him from straddling his battered
opponent.
   "Get to kickin sand Worthington," Mike spat angrily, "go play in traffic."
   Sobbing, angry and nearly hysterical Micky walked on unsteady legs back to
the house, leaning on his friends lest he drop to the ground. Intuitively,
Peter had already packed up their things and carried them home. While Tony
tended his bloody knuckles, Peter made Micky a cup of tea - which Mike laced
with a generous shot of bourbon. Speaking in a soft, even tone, his long-time
friend made an effort to soothe and reason with his broken soul.
   "Mi amici, I know what you're thinking. That wretch Worthington is a lying
bastard and was only trying to upset you, your little one would never stoop to
that extreme - never break his vows of love to you - and most certainly not
with the likes of him. Calm your mind mi amore, and listen to what your heart
already knows."
   "I n-know you're r-right, but h-he.. he-"
   "Simmer down shotgun n drink the tea."
   Swallowing the hot brew in three large gulps Micky paused, taking several
deep breaths and gathering himself together. The bourbon worked its charms,
calming him considerably and he attempted again to voice his thoughts.
   "I.. I can't imagine Davy would.. would do anything with - HIM - but you
guys KNOW how desperate he was, how lost and confused; he was doing a lot of
things he would never normally do, but that isn’t even why I’m so upset. What
really got me was the images in my head of everything Davy told us Ben did to
him.. I just lost it out there."
   "I'm against violence, you all know that," Peter mused aloud, "but I'm so
angry with Rocket, I could have easily taken your place out there Micky. Davy
is a sweet guy.. Rocket took advantage of him in the worst way possible."
   "All of us would've liked to have a piece of him amici, I too hate violence
and fighting, but I admit I felt a certain joy with every punch you landed."
   First off Mick Tiny would NOTdo that to you - what that asshole suggested -
he may have a lot of issues with this thing but you are everything to him, he's
not gonna wreck that. Second, didn't I tell you I wanted a piece of that action
shotgun?" He grinned.
   "Ya gotta move faster than that Tex," Micky said with a tentative smile.
   "Peter how about another cup of tea for our boy here," Tony proposed, "I
need to make a phone call."
   "Coming right up."
   When Tony returned to the kitchen he seemed somber yet determined. Marching
up to Micky, he gave him terse instructions.
   "Go and get dressed and do it quickly. You and I are taking a ride."
   "Okay that's scary."
   "How do you mean?"
   "Because," Micky said with a playful grin, inching toward the stairs, "when
a full-blooded Italian says you're going for a ride it usually means he's
bumping you off."
   "Move your culo magro or I may consider that."
   "Where we going?"
   "I would tell you, but then you'd have to ride in the trunk.. cement shoes
etc."
   "Funny Tonio."
   "Move it Micky!"
   "Moving it."
                                                                                     
*
   Three hours later, they pulled into the parking garage of the LA Community
Hospital, much to Micky's surprise - and dread.
   "What are we doing here?"
  "Family session."
  "Okay, then why isn't the whole family here?"
  "Because this is for you and Davy only. You have to talk to him Micky; you
have to find out for yourself what - if anything - happened with Worthington."
   "I can't do this."
   "You can, and if you want to save this relationship, you must."
   "Sure, right. 'Hi Davy I miss you and all but I really came to find out if
you were sucking Ben's cock' … That'sgonna go over real smooth."
   "Well NO, an approach like that isn't going to work! Amici tell him what
happened today - everything that was said and done - and take it from there.
He'll answer your questions and you'll know if it's the truth."
   "Where are you gonna be?"
   "I'll be waiting in the car."
   "Why can't you come with me?"
   "You would want me there if he says it happened?"
   "... "
   "Perhaps Davy would prefer to discuss this in private?"
   "I think I'm gonna throw up."
   "Well do it in the bushes over there and be quick about it, your appointment
with Paul is in five minutes."
                                                                                     
*
   "Am I in some kind of trouble?" Davy asked, sitting nervously in Paul's
office.
   "What makes you think that kiddo?" Paul asked out of habit, "Something you
need to tell me?"
   "No sir, just not expecting you to drive out 'ere on a Sunday ahftahnoon to
call me into yer office: Makes me nervous."
   "Relax Davy, impromptu session by request of a family member."
   "Oh really? Which one?"
   With impeccable timing, it was at that moment that Micky knocked.
   "Guess you're about to find out," Paul smiled, moving to answer the door.
   "Good afternoon, come in."
   "Micky!"
   "Hey little one," he said with little enthusiasm, offering a brief hug and
taking a seat.
   "Davy, Micky has something he is having some difficulty with," Paul began,
"I am here on a professional basis only and will not be recording this session.
I am going to stay out of this unless I feel it necessary to get involved,
okay? Micky, it's all yours."
   "First of all Davy, I love you, and whatever the truth is, I can take it -
but I really need to know. I'm counting on you to be honest with me, so we can
work through any hurdles and still be together."
   " ... Okay. I love you too, and whatever it is, I promise - straight up -
the whole truth."
   Micky turned his chair to face his little one and taking a deep breath,
plowed forward with the events of that morning in an uncharacteristically slow
and even voice. As tears trickled down his cheeks, he detailed the picnic and
Ben walking up to them with his mouth running in high gear. Davy sat silent,
fat tears of his own flooding from brown eyes clouded with sadness and pain. As
Micky poured out his heart to him, Davy glanced from time to time to his blood-
crusted, bandaged knuckles, wincing inside. Finished with his tale, Micky
looked up at him, playing absentmindedly with his own fingertips and asked him
the million-dollar question.
   "Dave, I'm sorry - but I gotta know - did you and Ben.. do anything?"
   "I'm not gonna lie to you," Davy began in a soft, steady voice, "I promised
you the truth and even if it takes me skin orf, I'm gonna give it to you."
   Prepared for the worst, Micky nodded silently, fresh tears dropping into his
lap, as he could no longer meet Davy's gaze.
   "The week before I took orf with Mike's guitar, I was at 'is place for my
usual needs. When I got there, Ben was really drunk and smokin' grass to boot.
Once I went in, he locked the door and literally pounced on me, insisting that
I was gonna.. suck 'im orf - fer me pills. Pulled it out, pinned me down and
tried like hell to force 'imself on me. All I could think of was you. I was not
about to let Ben blur my mind with THAT memory every time you and I would make
love. I turned me 'ead and bit 'im, on the fleshy pahrt of 'is hip and it made
'im jump enough so I could fight my way up. We fought - literally - fer a
minit, n I gave ‘im the ol’ Manchestah Kiss.. hightailed it outta there…
Remember when I told ev'ryone I'd tripped n hit me ‘ead on the door?”
   "Yaa.
   "Well babe, I lied. I got that bruise and cut on my forehead from fighting
with Ben. It didn't 'appen Micky, and if it meant fighting to my death to
prevent it, it nevah will."
   "Oh GOD little one! I'm so sorry I doubted you Davy, can you ever forgive
me?"
   "Babe, there's nothing to forgive. I've been a mess fer some time now, doing
things that are totally against my nature. Ahftah ev'rythin' I told you lahst
week and Worthington tryin to convince you of more, why wouldn't you worry?
It's all good Micky, and I love you even more."
                                                                                      
*                                                                                    

   Shortly after five Micky climbed into the Maserati with a huge smile
plastered to his face. Grinning like an idiot and absolutely in love, he leaned
back and instructed his would-be chauffeur.
   "Home Jeeves."
   "I take it that went better than you'd expected?" Tony grinned back, as he
started the motor.
   "Yes. Grazie mio fratello, il mio amico. Thanks for pushing this."
   "What have we always done for each other mio fratello mondana? Push,
support, love."
   "Well you saved me today. You may have even saved my relationship. Thanks."
   "I assume this means that Worthington was blowing smoke. I figured as much."
   "Well, mostly yes, but.. well, I’ll explain it at home - I only wanna repeat
this garbage once.”
   "Fine by me. How is our little one?"
   "He's doing good. We finished up pretty quick so Paul gave us about twenty
minutes alone in his office."
   "Necking is against the rules you know," he grinned.
   "Yaa well, one or both of us will be taking an extended shower tonight,"
Micky laughed.
   "Why don't you call ahead amici and see what the boys have going on. If
nobody has started dinner, we can pick up some takeout on the way back."
   "Sounds great to me!"
***** Chapter 23 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
   Six and a half weeks later Davy graduated from his program with full honors
from the staff and a prognosis for a bright, drug-free future. At eleven that
morning he was to be discharged, his ecstatic family waiting for him in the
downstairs lobby. When Paul came off the elevator alone, everyone began to
panic.
   "Where's Davy?"
   "Isn't he coming home?"
   "Tell me Tiny isn't in any trouble?"
   "EVERYBODY CALM DOWN! Tony shouted, "Paul, is everything alright?"
   "Absolutely, please - everyone settle down - he's still leaving with you. He
has asked me not to sign his paperwork yet so that you can come upstairs with
me - which is allowed as long as he is still registered as a patient here.
There is something he wants to share with all of you, but mostly you Mike.
Follow me gentlemen."
   Curious and extremely intrigued they followed him in silence to the elevator
and up to the third floor. Once through the security station Paul led them down
the hall to the recreational wing and into the music room. There at the piano
Davy sat alone, looking out the window at the ocean below. From across the
room, it was clear that he'd put his weight back on and maybe an extra pound or
two - he looked healthy and full of life - the vital, vibrant young man they
all remembered.
   "Mr. Jones?" Paul smiled.
   "He-hey!" Davy greeted exuberantly, whirling around on the stool, "yer all
'ere!"
   "WOW do you ever look GREAT!" Micky exclaimed!
   "Dayum Tiny! Look at you!"
   "Hey kiddo, looking good!"
   "Gosh Davy," Peter grinned, "It's gonna be so great having you home!"
   "Thanks mate, I can 'ardly wait to get there meself!"
   "So," Mike smiled shyly, I understand there's sumthin you wanna um.. show me
- us?"
   "Yes, right! One of the things they encourage 'ere is to do things that you
like, whether it's art, poetry, music - something creative to stimulate you
that doesn't require.. well, outside influences. I've spent most of my free
time up'ere in the music room, and I've.. well, I’ll show you. This is for all
of you to see, hear - but Mike, it's mostly you I want to share this with."
   Turning to the keys Davy closed his eyes and took a breath. When fully
focused he opened them and began to play a beautiful lilting tune. Several bars
in, he began to sing softly:
                                                            "When the world and
I were young, just yesterday,
                                                            Life was such a
simple game - a child could play.
                                                                 It was easy
then to tell right from wrong,
                                                                      Easy then
to tell weak from strong,
                                                                    When a man
should stand and fight,
                                                                                    
Or just go along.
                                                                      But today
there is no day or night,
                                                                        Today
there is no dark or light,
                                                                       Today
there is no black or white,
                                                                             
Only shades of gray…”
   He continued on till his composition was through, playing and singing, his
eyes squeezed shut with a passionate fire, the music being drawn out from
within him. When he was through and the last note sounded, he looked up at his
lover, his friend, his guardian and his mentor to find them all in various
stages of emotion - from Tony's moist eyes to the outright tears pouring down
Mike's face. Shuffling forward the lanky Texan grabbed him into his arms,
hugging him for all he was worth, Davy responding with the tightest squeeze he
could muster for his friend.
   "I'm sorry," Mike whispered, "I'm so sorry you've gone through so much pain.
I love you Tiny."
   "I love you too Mike," he whispered back.
   "And please tell me you wrote all of that down.. cuz by God that's gonna be
our next big song!"
   "Hey now, you taught me well enough, s'all on paper - words and music."
   "He has an amazing talent - a gift, truly," Paul beamed at Davy, "Please,
cultivate it. He's going to go far."
   "If you ask me," Tony smiled proudly, "he already has."
   "Come on little one, let's get you home."
   "Sounds good by me Micky!"
   "I'm so happy Davy, Peter gushed, "you're not addicted anymore!"
   "Tha's where yer wrong Petah. I'm recovered from my addiction, but I'll
always hafta be careful. For the rest of my LIFE I have the potential to slip -
I will always be an addict - but I plan on being a clean one, from 'ere on
out!"
Chapter End Notes
     Addiction is real. It destroys lives and obliterates familiesoften
     resulting in death. In most cases the individual needs professional
     help in treating their addiction or dependence. If you or someone you
     love needs help, please call the National Drug Abuse Hotline 24 hrs a
     day at 1-877-795-1958. Please, call before its too late.
     DEDICATED TO:
     Cookie
     Putter
     Jr
     Maddie
     Bitty Bop
     JT
     The Lost Child
End Notes
     Addiction is real. It destroys lives and obliterates families, often
     resulting in death. Devastated children, ruined marriages and the
     cost to one’s own health are high. In most cases, the individual
     needs professional help in treating their addiction or dependence. If
     you or someone you love needs help, please call the National Drug
     Abuse Hotline 24 hrs a day at 1-877-795-1958. Please, call before
     it’s too late.
     DEDICATED TO:
     Cookie
     Putter
     Jr
     Maddie
     Bitty Bop
     JT
     The Lost Child
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