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Catch the Sun, Part Six: The Other Half Of the Sky

January could hardly breathe as lifted her hands and realized that it was Mike’s blood on her fingers.

“Oh God,” she whispered, barely able to comprehend what was happening.

Tears started to flow down her cheeks as her eyes adjusted to the dim light even more. January could see him better now, but what she saw made her wish that she couldn’t.

He laid there on the dusty ground, his hair caked with blood and his eyes were closed in a grimace of pain. It had all happened so quickly, but as she shut her eyes to block out the sight, she recalled the falling that had seemed to go on forever. She remembered Mike telling her to hold on as the apartment seemed to fall down around them. The last thing she saw was his body covering her own, shielding her from the falling debris. Now, here he was. He had been trying to protect her, but he couldn’t even protect himself from this disaster.

Inching closer to him, January placed her fingers to the side of his neck and felt for a pulse. Opening her eyes wider, she noticed from his heartbeat that he was still very much alive.

“Oh, thank God,” she whispered in relief, sniffling and running her hands through her tangled hair.

“Michael,” asked said softly, gently reaching out and touching his shoulder, “Michael can you hear me?”

“You’ve got to listen to me Michael,” January continued, fear causing her voice to raise a bit. “I don’t know where we are and I’m not quite sure how to get out. You’ve got to get up. Your heart is beating so I know you’re still there.”

January lightly tapped the side of his face, trying to get him to wake up. After doing this many times, she slumped back against the wall, defeated.

Glancing over at him, she noticed he was still bleeding a bit. Looking around, she tried to find something she could use as a compress. Not finding anything but more darkness, she looked down at her favorite T-shirt and grabbed the ends, ripped off a fair amount and moved closer to Mike again.

She had torn just enough fabric to cover his forehead. Pressing on the wound with the shirt, she felt her body start to shake as thoughts of impending doom circled in her mind.

“Oh Michael, I’m so sorry for treating you the way I did,” January said, pouring out her soul to Mike’s motionless figure. “I—well, my life has been just one hellish thing after another. And judging by what’s going on now, I don’t think it’s going to be any better.”

“You—you look just like Jim,” January continued, pressing the t-shirt material softly on his forehead, then wiping a tear from her scared cheek. “Why did you have to look just like him? I know you tried to be sweet and nice and helpful, but every time I saw you I just kept seeing him.”

Looking down at Mike he seemed so small, so helpless, so innocent, she chided herself for thinking all that she did about him.

“I’m such a screw up Michael,” she rambled on. “What would you ever want with someone like me anyway? My parents died when I was thirteen, my uncle abused me physically and otherwise, and people that were supposed to be my friends treated me like garbage. I can’t trust anybody, especially men. What does that say about me, huh? Well, I think it says that January Miller isn’t worth anything to anybody. And she surely couldn’t do anything for you. I mean, you’re so talented, you’ve got great friends, and a really great life. What in the world could you see in someone like me?”

“Michael,” she said, after a few moments, a lump forming in her throat, “what if we never get out of here? What if nobody ever finds us? What if we--you die?”

Reaching over to smooth back his dark hair, January started to cry again.

“What if I never get to thank you for sheltering me,” she whispered as the ground began to shake again. This time, January threw her own body over his.


“Okay, okay,” Katerina said from her place at the end of the couch at the Pad, “It’s a girl!”

“A girl,” Micky shouted. “Alright! A girl!”

“Oh, congratulations, man,” Peter exclaimed, embracing his friend as the two men jumped up and down.

“Oh my gosh,” Adriana whispered as she held the small child in her arms that Kateriana had handed to her. Never in her life did she think that she would become a mother so soon, nonetheless the mother to a Monkee’s child, but as she held her own flesh and blood in her arms and saw the perfect little face and held the perfect little hands, she wondered how she could have ever done without this.

Soon she felt Micky kneeling on the floor beside the couch, watching her and the baby.

Turning to look at her husband, hardly able to form the words, she smiled and whispered, “Can you believe this?”

Micky leaned over Adriana and got a closer look at his daughter. She had her father’s nose and brown eyes, and her mother’s blond hair.

“She’s so beautiful,” Micky said, as he reached out to touch her soft skin, totally in awe of the tiny baby.

“Yeah, she is,” Adriana said, tears shining in her eyes as she watched Micky watch the baby, feeling herself fall in love with him even more.


“Isn’t this great,” Peter whispered to Katerina, whom he thought was still standing beside him near the new parents. Turning to see she had gone, Peter walked to the kitchen to try and find her.

“I’m right here,” Katerina said softly from the spiral steps leading upstairs. She sat near the edge of the last step, one hand resting on her cheek, watching Adriana and Micky.

Peter walked over to the steps and sat down beside her.

“It’s like they’re in their own little world now,” she said quietly as she watched them. “If anybody deserves this kind of happiness, I know Adrian does.”

“You did a great job, Kat,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “You just helped perform a miracle.”

“Hmm, I did didn’t I,” Katerina mused, looking at the family forming across the room.

Peter smiled and turned her face towards his own, “I am so proud of you, Kat.”

“Thanks,” she said, moving her attention away from Micky, Adriana and the baby.

She smiled at Peter, playfully touched the dimple on the side of his face with a quick kiss and leaned her head on his shoulder. This was a day she knew she would remember for the rest of her life.

Before she could relax completely in Peter’s arms, she felt strange sensation.

The ground was shaking again.


“Oh Davy,” Ursula exclaimed with a laugh as the two hurried down the street, hand in hand. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

“He ‘ad no right to call you that just because you were with me,” Davy said, his voice edgy with anger. “I mean, look at wha’ he was doing back there with that waitress!” “But still,” Ursula said, raising an eyebrow at the sudden turn of events, “standing up to someone well—as—um, big as Brendon. That really took a lot of guts.”

“Guys like that don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you,” Davy said, slowing down his pace and looking at Ursula.

“There’s the car,” Davy said, breaking his gaze and leading Ursula to it, “Let’s go.”

Once they were in the car, Davy turned the key and discovered that the Monkee Mobile wasn’t as unscathed as he thought it was.

“Oh man,” Davy said, smacking the steering wheel, “the thing won’t start!”

“Well, I guess we could walk back,” Ursula suggested with a shrug, looking over her shoulder. “It’s not that far.”

As they made their way down the street towards the Pad, an uncomfortable silence fell between the two.

“Does it hurt,” Ursula asked, glancing over at Davy, who had calmed down considerably.

“Does wha’ hurt,” Davy asked.

“Your hand,” Ursula said, pointing at Davy’s left hand, which he was cradling in the other as they walked. “Does it hurt much?”

“Aw, no,” Davy said, quickly dropping his hand, and flashing a brilliant grin at Ursula “not at all.”

“Oh, well, mine still does,” Ursula said, rubbing her wrist and glancing over to see Davy doing the same thing.

“I’m fine, really,” Davy assured her, dropping his hand again.

“You hit him pretty hard,” Ursula said with a giggle.

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I,” Davy asked, flashing a smile once again.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” Ursula said, stopping and looking at Davy.

“Pretend,” Davy questioned, halting. “Wha’ do you mean?”

“You can tell me you’re hurting,” Ursula said quietly. “I understand.”

Davy sighed and leaned against a brick wall near a shop. She did understand. She was the only one who did. He was hurting and he knew they both knew it just wasn’t just from punching out Brendon after he called Ursula a tramp.

“I’m sorry Ursula,” Davy said, turning to look at her as she stood there, chaos all around them.

“Davy,” Ursula said, gesturing, “you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who thought Brendon was who I wanted to be with. I guess all he turned out to be was a pretty face.”

“Well, wha’ do you think this is, chopped liva’,” he asked, half-heartedly trying to be funny to ease the tension he felt.

“Very funny,” Ursula said, folding her arms and moving closer to where he stood. “What in the world do you have to be sorry about? When we were together, you were nothing but a gentleman to me. You were sweet and kind—“ “Hmm,” Davy grunted in disagreement, looking up at the setting sun. “Took a little work, eh?” “Sure…and you’ve got a mean right hook,” Ursula said, with a laugh, punching him lightly in the arm with her good hand.

Davy stopped Ursula’s hand before she moved back, and took it in his own.

“I’m sorry I never really told you what you mean to me,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I’ve never felt this way about anybody before. I guess even though I tried, I just treated you like all the other girls I’ve dated. Nice, and sweet, and friendly, and everything else that I would normally do and say, but I never really treated you like you should be treated—special.”

“Davy, I—,” Ursula started to say.

“Wait,” Davy said, stopping her, “if I had told you how I really feel, maybe you would have never felt like you had to go to Brendon. I never said how ‘appy I feel when you’re walking beside me. I never mentioned how proud I am when we’re at the college and people ask me who I’m with and I get to tell ‘em it’s you. And Ursula, I never even told you that I—I love you.”

“You what,” Ursula asked, a look of amazement appearing on her face.

“I love you,” Davy repeated. “I’ve said it to other girls before, but I never said it to you. I’m not sure why, but with you it’s different. It means something more.”

Ursula slipped her hand away from Davy and looked down, rubbing her wrist, deep in thought.

“There,” Davy said, looking down at his own hand and finally allowing himself to feel the pain. “I’ve said it. It’s out there.”

After what seemed like forever, Davy felt Ursula’s warm arms around him as she hugged him tightly. Davy smiled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he stroked her hair.

“I guess I would have to say that I love you too,” Ursula said.

Davy felt as if his face could split from smiling so big as he spun the two of them in a circle. Their happiness was short-lived however, as they were knocked off balance by the shaking.

The aftershocks had begun.


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Part Seven!

The Library

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