Somewhere Back in Time 13/21
Title: Somewhere Back in Time (chapter 13)
Author: rose_of_pollux
Rating: eventual PG13
Summary: Sequel to Red Sky. Mr. Zero had promised that it wasn't over. Now, he's ready to inflict more misery upon our heroes as they find themselves on the run again--through the very depths of the space-time continuum.
In this Chapter: Mike has a plan. Unfortunately, he's not the only one.
Warnings: There will be perilous situations in later chapters. Also, this is a Doctor Nez fic, so wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey elements will be ahead, as well.
Genre: Adventure/Drama
Pairing: None
Main Character(s): Mike, Davy, Micky, Peter, Mr. Zero
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine (except for the OCs), and the story is; fictional personas from the TV show.
Notes: The outlaws in this chapter are not my characters.
Chapter 13: Monkee Wrench
On the same wavelength, the quartet quickly ducked down and hid behind the bar, much to the chagrin of the bartender.
“What’s Zero doing here?!” Micky hissed.
“He’s after the pages, too, remember?” Mike said. “He must’ve figured out Posey’s gang has the page from this era, so he’s doing a little wheeling and dealing of his own to try and get it from them.”
“How do we stop him?” Davy asked. “If he gets one page-even just one-we’re in trouble!”
“I’ve got an idea,” Mike said, handing Davy his Stetson. “Hold onto that for me.”
The Texan grabbed a hand fan from one of the saloon girls as she walked past. Ignoring her protests, he also grabbed a tray of drinks. Holding the tray in one hand and the fan in the other to cover his face, Mike slowly began to head to the back of the saloon.
“What is he doing?!” Peter quietly fretted. “They’re not going to be fooled by that; he’s going to get caught!”
“Not if I can help it,” Davy said, crawling to the edge of the bar and taking a peek.
“No, Davy!” Micky whispered, tugging him back by his sleeve. “Mike’s taking a risk just being out there; if someone else goes, it’ll be way too obvious!”
“I’m surprised Mike hasn’t been noticed already,” Peter agreed. “They must both be really out of it.”
“Zero looks like he’s trying to make a deal in addition to trying to negotiate the page,” Micky said. “And the guy isn’t buying it, for some reason.”
“He’s smarter than I was, then…” Peter said, glumly.
“You didn’t know what you were getting into,” Davy said, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“Yeah, but… If I hadn’t signed that contract for the harp, Mike wouldn’t have ticked Zero off at my trial and we wouldn’t be in this jam now.”
“Peter…” Micky said. “Come on, man. All you wanted was to play the music and make people happy. Nothing wrong with that.”
Davy nodded in agreement and took another peek from the edge of the bar. His shoulders stiffened.
“What is it?” Micky asked.
“Mike’s gone!” Davy whispered. “He’s not there anymore!”
Micky and Peter now took a look from the bar’s edge.
“Oh, no…” Peter fretted. “Where did he go?”
“Right here,” a soft voice spoke from behind them.
The other three Monkees gave a start.
“Don’t do that…” Davy said, giving Mike a look. “What happened?”
“Oh, the usual-Zero’s trying to get that Pinto fella to convince Posey to sign a deal. She’s hiding in a room upstairs, and she’s in no mood to talk to Zero, so Pinto’s getting the swindle. He’s not falling for it, though; now Zero’s trying to settle for just the page, just as we thought.”
“That’s not good,” Micky said.
“Actually, it was; I heard everything they were saying. I found out where they’re hiding the loot from their last heist-and our missing page is there!” Mike grinned. “They hid the loot under some loose floorboards in the telegraph office. I could just swing by there right now and grab it! …In fact, I will.”
“Great!” Peter said. “Let’s head over there and get outta here before Zero ever finds out we were here.”
“It’ll be really risky for all four of us to try to sneak out-there’s no way we wouldn’t be seen,” Mike said, glancing back at the back table, too. “And I’m not risking that. You three stay right here, got it? I’ll be back as soon as I get the page, and then we’ll make a run for the Eldy once Zero splits.”
The other three stared back in silence, clearly not liking the idea.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Mike promised.
“You’d better be,” Micky murmured, as Mike crawled to the other end of the bar and snuck out of the saloon. He leaned against the back of the bar as he sat, twiddling his thumbs for a few minutes.
“I don’t like this,” Peter said. “I don’t like the idea of Mike being out there all alone. At least one of us should be with him to back him up in case something goes wrong.”
“Yeah,” Micky agreed. “What do you think, Davy?”
No answer.
“Davy…?” Peter asked.
They both looked around, wildly, searching for the English boy.
“He’s gone!” they exclaimed.
“He must’ve gone to follow Mike in case he got into trouble,” Peter said. “At least… I hope that’s all that happened.”
Micky took a peek from behind the bar again. Zero was now sitting at the back table-alone. Pinto had wandered off somewhere.
“Well, that Pinto guy has split, but Zero’s still around,” the brunet relayed. “So that means that Zero couldn’t have taken Davy.”
“That’s a relief. But be careful, Micky!” Peter said, wiping sweat from his brow. “You don’t want him to see you!”
“Micky?” a new, unfamiliar voice asked. “You aren’t from California, by any chance, are you?”
The brunet blinked as he came face to face with a man on the other side of the bar; it was one of the two agents that Mike had been talking to earlier.
“Um… how do you know my name? And where I’m from?”
“A woman told me,” the man said. “She said her name was Professor Song, and that I had to deliver this letter to a young man named Micky from California-and that I’d find him hiding behind a bar in this town.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah, I know a Professor Song,” Micky said. “She’s a friend of ours.”
“Then I believe this belongs to you,” the man said, handing Micky a letter before heading on his way.
The brunet shrugged at the blond and, as they ducked behind the counter again.
“What’s it say?” Peter asked, as Micky opened the letter.
“Hey, it’s instructions on how to use the weirdo wristband thing she lent me!” the brunet exclaimed. “She says that it’s time I learned it, since it’s the only thing that’ll save Mike and Davy!” The brunet’s eyes widened as the realization sunk in. “Save them… from what?”
“Micky…!” Peter exclaimed.
The brunet followed his gaze. Leaning over the bar, leering at them, was Mr. Zero.
**************************************
Mike’s quest started off simple enough. It only took a moment to ask for directions to find the telegraph office, and it was only a matter of sneaking inside unseen. The lock wasn’t working-testimony to the fact that someone could easily use it.
After stubbing his toe on an inconveniently-placed trashcan, Mike was able to find the hollow spot in the floor.
“I gotcha,” he whispered, lifting the boards. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket, going through the bonds and deeds until, finally, he found the one piece of paper that didn’t fit in among them. “Oh, I really gotcha…”
He trailed off, blinking as he noticed his own name on the page.
“I’ve got one of those Fixed Points in store for me? Here?” he murmured aloud. He aimed the flashlight to better look at the words written there.
“‘Michael, unaware of the approaching danger, could not react in time,’” he read aloud. “And it was due to this that he found himself knocked unconscious…’”
He trailed off, letting out a yelp as he felt a crushing blow fall across his shoulders, his world going dark.
When he finally regained awareness, he could still feel the pain from the blow. He also found out that he couldn’t move. He attempted to speak, and found that his mouth was gagged with a handkerchief.
The Texan opened his eyes, seeing his tied hands lying on top of his chest. He quickly realized that his feet were bound, also, but the most disturbing thing about his predicament was the fact that, aside from the sky overhead, he was surrounded by wood on all sides. Panicking, Mike struggled to move, his muffled yells going nowhere.
“Relax,” a female voice said. “You’re not in a coffin; you’re in an old packing crate. It’s the best we could do on such short notice.” The woman’s face became visible over the side of the open crate. Beside her stood the man Zero had been talking to. “My name is Lucrece Posey; I believe you’ve heard of me? You didn’t really think that my associate here didn’t notice that you were spying on him?”
“That Zero feller told me something like this would happen,” Pinto said. “So he had me drop the location of the loot, knowing that you’d show up. Don’t know why you’d waste your time on a dumb piece of paper…”
“What did you do with the paper?” Posey asked Pinto.
“It’s back on the floor of the telegraph office,” Pinto grunted. “Figured we’ll pick it up with the rest of the loot and hand it to that Zero guy before we get out of town.”
“I’ll go get it; you meet me at the rendezvous point with the others after you take care of him,” Posey said, indicating Mike before she turned away and left.
Pinto smirked.
“You hear that, Tex? She’s letting me deal with you, and she’s given me a free reign. So here’s what we’re going to do. Since I went through the trouble of getting you this crate, you might as well spend a little more time here. You see this rope?”
He indicated a rope that seemed to wrap around the whole crate, suspending it in midair. Mike’s eyes followed the rope, and a chill ran down his spine as he realized that the other end of it was tied to the crank of a well.
“I’ve rigged this well’s rope to a counterweight system so that it’ll lower you down inch by inch into the well,” Pinto said. “It’ll probably take you down only halfway. But when the rope reaches its end, it’ll stay over a candle flame I’ve got set up-when the rope burns through, down you’ll go, the rest of the way. And the best part? You’ll know it’s coming, but you won’t know when. You’ll just have to lie there, in the dark, wondering when that rope will burn through. Now, I don’t know whether or not this crate has any holes in it-you’ll have the fun of finding that out for yourself.”
Pinto disappeared for a moment, but reappeared after a moment, and Mike began to panic again as he felt the crate begin to descend into the well.
“I’d say something smart, like hoping that you’ve learned your lesson not to snoop around,” he said. “But there’s really no point in learning anything from this, is there? You won’t be able to use your newfound knowledge.”
The captive boy let out a muffled scream as Pinto placed the lid of the crate over him, placing him in total darkness. All he could hear were the man’s sadistic chuckles; they soon faded as Pinto walked away, leaving the musician in his dire predicament.
This sensation… he had felt it once before-another time, another well… The well back home, where he had been trapped in that fateful night-the night that made him decide to leave his hometown. And as he felt his heart hammering in his chest and the sweat pouring from his face, Mike knew exactly what this sensation was.
This was fear-pure, sheer fear.
All dignity forgotten, the Texan let out a series of muffled cries, trying desperately to move his immobile body, and failing. And as the crate stopped descending, now waiting for the flame to burn through it and drop him the rest of the way, the cries turned to muffled sobs.
He didn’t want to go. Not like this…
“Mike?!”
The Texan froze. Clearly, he was hallucinating-hearing a voice he so desperately wanted to hear…
“MIKE!?”
No, that was no hallucination… That was Davy!
As if to confirm the realization, the lid of the crate as soon pulled off to reveal Davy holding onto the rope, staring in horror at what he was seeing. The English boy quickly lowered himself into the crate and untied the handkerchief.
“Mike, are you okay!?” he asked, as he quickly got to work untying the ropes around Mike’s wrists and ankles.
“I am now, Tiny,” the Texan exhaled, sitting up in the crate and giving his companion a wan smile.
Davy managed a grin and hugged him in relief.
“If I have to rescue you from a well one more time, I’m changing your name to Timmy.”
“That would make you Lassie.”
“…Forget that, then.”
The crate suddenly dropped an inch downward, and the two pulled away from the hug.
“What was that?” Davy asked.
“Please tell me you put the candle out before you climbed down here,” Mike said.
“…What candle?”
“The candle that’s almost burned through the rope,” Mike said, wincing. “With both of us in this crate, it’s not gonna hold for much-”
The words weren’t even out of his mouth when the rope snapped. The Texan and the English boy clutched at each other’s shoulders, bracing for the landing as gravity grabbed ahold of them.
Author: rose_of_pollux
Rating: eventual PG13
Summary: Sequel to Red Sky. Mr. Zero had promised that it wasn't over. Now, he's ready to inflict more misery upon our heroes as they find themselves on the run again--through the very depths of the space-time continuum.
In this Chapter: Mike has a plan. Unfortunately, he's not the only one.
Warnings: There will be perilous situations in later chapters. Also, this is a Doctor Nez fic, so wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey elements will be ahead, as well.
Genre: Adventure/Drama
Pairing: None
Main Character(s): Mike, Davy, Micky, Peter, Mr. Zero
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine (except for the OCs), and the story is; fictional personas from the TV show.
Notes: The outlaws in this chapter are not my characters.
Chapter 13: Monkee Wrench
On the same wavelength, the quartet quickly ducked down and hid behind the bar, much to the chagrin of the bartender.
“What’s Zero doing here?!” Micky hissed.
“He’s after the pages, too, remember?” Mike said. “He must’ve figured out Posey’s gang has the page from this era, so he’s doing a little wheeling and dealing of his own to try and get it from them.”
“How do we stop him?” Davy asked. “If he gets one page-even just one-we’re in trouble!”
“I’ve got an idea,” Mike said, handing Davy his Stetson. “Hold onto that for me.”
The Texan grabbed a hand fan from one of the saloon girls as she walked past. Ignoring her protests, he also grabbed a tray of drinks. Holding the tray in one hand and the fan in the other to cover his face, Mike slowly began to head to the back of the saloon.
“What is he doing?!” Peter quietly fretted. “They’re not going to be fooled by that; he’s going to get caught!”
“Not if I can help it,” Davy said, crawling to the edge of the bar and taking a peek.
“No, Davy!” Micky whispered, tugging him back by his sleeve. “Mike’s taking a risk just being out there; if someone else goes, it’ll be way too obvious!”
“I’m surprised Mike hasn’t been noticed already,” Peter agreed. “They must both be really out of it.”
“Zero looks like he’s trying to make a deal in addition to trying to negotiate the page,” Micky said. “And the guy isn’t buying it, for some reason.”
“He’s smarter than I was, then…” Peter said, glumly.
“You didn’t know what you were getting into,” Davy said, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“Yeah, but… If I hadn’t signed that contract for the harp, Mike wouldn’t have ticked Zero off at my trial and we wouldn’t be in this jam now.”
“Peter…” Micky said. “Come on, man. All you wanted was to play the music and make people happy. Nothing wrong with that.”
Davy nodded in agreement and took another peek from the edge of the bar. His shoulders stiffened.
“What is it?” Micky asked.
“Mike’s gone!” Davy whispered. “He’s not there anymore!”
Micky and Peter now took a look from the bar’s edge.
“Oh, no…” Peter fretted. “Where did he go?”
“Right here,” a soft voice spoke from behind them.
The other three Monkees gave a start.
“Don’t do that…” Davy said, giving Mike a look. “What happened?”
“Oh, the usual-Zero’s trying to get that Pinto fella to convince Posey to sign a deal. She’s hiding in a room upstairs, and she’s in no mood to talk to Zero, so Pinto’s getting the swindle. He’s not falling for it, though; now Zero’s trying to settle for just the page, just as we thought.”
“That’s not good,” Micky said.
“Actually, it was; I heard everything they were saying. I found out where they’re hiding the loot from their last heist-and our missing page is there!” Mike grinned. “They hid the loot under some loose floorboards in the telegraph office. I could just swing by there right now and grab it! …In fact, I will.”
“Great!” Peter said. “Let’s head over there and get outta here before Zero ever finds out we were here.”
“It’ll be really risky for all four of us to try to sneak out-there’s no way we wouldn’t be seen,” Mike said, glancing back at the back table, too. “And I’m not risking that. You three stay right here, got it? I’ll be back as soon as I get the page, and then we’ll make a run for the Eldy once Zero splits.”
The other three stared back in silence, clearly not liking the idea.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Mike promised.
“You’d better be,” Micky murmured, as Mike crawled to the other end of the bar and snuck out of the saloon. He leaned against the back of the bar as he sat, twiddling his thumbs for a few minutes.
“I don’t like this,” Peter said. “I don’t like the idea of Mike being out there all alone. At least one of us should be with him to back him up in case something goes wrong.”
“Yeah,” Micky agreed. “What do you think, Davy?”
No answer.
“Davy…?” Peter asked.
They both looked around, wildly, searching for the English boy.
“He’s gone!” they exclaimed.
“He must’ve gone to follow Mike in case he got into trouble,” Peter said. “At least… I hope that’s all that happened.”
Micky took a peek from behind the bar again. Zero was now sitting at the back table-alone. Pinto had wandered off somewhere.
“Well, that Pinto guy has split, but Zero’s still around,” the brunet relayed. “So that means that Zero couldn’t have taken Davy.”
“That’s a relief. But be careful, Micky!” Peter said, wiping sweat from his brow. “You don’t want him to see you!”
“Micky?” a new, unfamiliar voice asked. “You aren’t from California, by any chance, are you?”
The brunet blinked as he came face to face with a man on the other side of the bar; it was one of the two agents that Mike had been talking to earlier.
“Um… how do you know my name? And where I’m from?”
“A woman told me,” the man said. “She said her name was Professor Song, and that I had to deliver this letter to a young man named Micky from California-and that I’d find him hiding behind a bar in this town.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah, I know a Professor Song,” Micky said. “She’s a friend of ours.”
“Then I believe this belongs to you,” the man said, handing Micky a letter before heading on his way.
The brunet shrugged at the blond and, as they ducked behind the counter again.
“What’s it say?” Peter asked, as Micky opened the letter.
“Hey, it’s instructions on how to use the weirdo wristband thing she lent me!” the brunet exclaimed. “She says that it’s time I learned it, since it’s the only thing that’ll save Mike and Davy!” The brunet’s eyes widened as the realization sunk in. “Save them… from what?”
“Micky…!” Peter exclaimed.
The brunet followed his gaze. Leaning over the bar, leering at them, was Mr. Zero.
**************************************
Mike’s quest started off simple enough. It only took a moment to ask for directions to find the telegraph office, and it was only a matter of sneaking inside unseen. The lock wasn’t working-testimony to the fact that someone could easily use it.
After stubbing his toe on an inconveniently-placed trashcan, Mike was able to find the hollow spot in the floor.
“I gotcha,” he whispered, lifting the boards. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket, going through the bonds and deeds until, finally, he found the one piece of paper that didn’t fit in among them. “Oh, I really gotcha…”
He trailed off, blinking as he noticed his own name on the page.
“I’ve got one of those Fixed Points in store for me? Here?” he murmured aloud. He aimed the flashlight to better look at the words written there.
“‘Michael, unaware of the approaching danger, could not react in time,’” he read aloud. “And it was due to this that he found himself knocked unconscious…’”
He trailed off, letting out a yelp as he felt a crushing blow fall across his shoulders, his world going dark.
When he finally regained awareness, he could still feel the pain from the blow. He also found out that he couldn’t move. He attempted to speak, and found that his mouth was gagged with a handkerchief.
The Texan opened his eyes, seeing his tied hands lying on top of his chest. He quickly realized that his feet were bound, also, but the most disturbing thing about his predicament was the fact that, aside from the sky overhead, he was surrounded by wood on all sides. Panicking, Mike struggled to move, his muffled yells going nowhere.
“Relax,” a female voice said. “You’re not in a coffin; you’re in an old packing crate. It’s the best we could do on such short notice.” The woman’s face became visible over the side of the open crate. Beside her stood the man Zero had been talking to. “My name is Lucrece Posey; I believe you’ve heard of me? You didn’t really think that my associate here didn’t notice that you were spying on him?”
“That Zero feller told me something like this would happen,” Pinto said. “So he had me drop the location of the loot, knowing that you’d show up. Don’t know why you’d waste your time on a dumb piece of paper…”
“What did you do with the paper?” Posey asked Pinto.
“It’s back on the floor of the telegraph office,” Pinto grunted. “Figured we’ll pick it up with the rest of the loot and hand it to that Zero guy before we get out of town.”
“I’ll go get it; you meet me at the rendezvous point with the others after you take care of him,” Posey said, indicating Mike before she turned away and left.
Pinto smirked.
“You hear that, Tex? She’s letting me deal with you, and she’s given me a free reign. So here’s what we’re going to do. Since I went through the trouble of getting you this crate, you might as well spend a little more time here. You see this rope?”
He indicated a rope that seemed to wrap around the whole crate, suspending it in midair. Mike’s eyes followed the rope, and a chill ran down his spine as he realized that the other end of it was tied to the crank of a well.
“I’ve rigged this well’s rope to a counterweight system so that it’ll lower you down inch by inch into the well,” Pinto said. “It’ll probably take you down only halfway. But when the rope reaches its end, it’ll stay over a candle flame I’ve got set up-when the rope burns through, down you’ll go, the rest of the way. And the best part? You’ll know it’s coming, but you won’t know when. You’ll just have to lie there, in the dark, wondering when that rope will burn through. Now, I don’t know whether or not this crate has any holes in it-you’ll have the fun of finding that out for yourself.”
Pinto disappeared for a moment, but reappeared after a moment, and Mike began to panic again as he felt the crate begin to descend into the well.
“I’d say something smart, like hoping that you’ve learned your lesson not to snoop around,” he said. “But there’s really no point in learning anything from this, is there? You won’t be able to use your newfound knowledge.”
The captive boy let out a muffled scream as Pinto placed the lid of the crate over him, placing him in total darkness. All he could hear were the man’s sadistic chuckles; they soon faded as Pinto walked away, leaving the musician in his dire predicament.
This sensation… he had felt it once before-another time, another well… The well back home, where he had been trapped in that fateful night-the night that made him decide to leave his hometown. And as he felt his heart hammering in his chest and the sweat pouring from his face, Mike knew exactly what this sensation was.
This was fear-pure, sheer fear.
All dignity forgotten, the Texan let out a series of muffled cries, trying desperately to move his immobile body, and failing. And as the crate stopped descending, now waiting for the flame to burn through it and drop him the rest of the way, the cries turned to muffled sobs.
He didn’t want to go. Not like this…
“Mike?!”
The Texan froze. Clearly, he was hallucinating-hearing a voice he so desperately wanted to hear…
“MIKE!?”
No, that was no hallucination… That was Davy!
As if to confirm the realization, the lid of the crate as soon pulled off to reveal Davy holding onto the rope, staring in horror at what he was seeing. The English boy quickly lowered himself into the crate and untied the handkerchief.
“Mike, are you okay!?” he asked, as he quickly got to work untying the ropes around Mike’s wrists and ankles.
“I am now, Tiny,” the Texan exhaled, sitting up in the crate and giving his companion a wan smile.
Davy managed a grin and hugged him in relief.
“If I have to rescue you from a well one more time, I’m changing your name to Timmy.”
“That would make you Lassie.”
“…Forget that, then.”
The crate suddenly dropped an inch downward, and the two pulled away from the hug.
“What was that?” Davy asked.
“Please tell me you put the candle out before you climbed down here,” Mike said.
“…What candle?”
“The candle that’s almost burned through the rope,” Mike said, wincing. “With both of us in this crate, it’s not gonna hold for much-”
The words weren’t even out of his mouth when the rope snapped. The Texan and the English boy clutched at each other’s shoulders, bracing for the landing as gravity grabbed ahold of them.