Michael sat on the beige overstuffed couch in the living room of their apartment, reviewing the events of the last several days. He couldn't believe it was just two days ago John had joined them for dinner. He remembered how Peter was very disturbed by his friend's recent behavior and after their dinner he agreed John was acting differently.  He hadn't been willing to confront him at the time, hoping to gather a little more information, but now, his worst suspicions were confirmed.

Last night as they were leaving the June Kelley Gallery, Peter had received a call informing him that John had been arrested. The details were provided and then he discovered the police had sent him to the psych ward for a 72 hour hold. It was a serious action by the police and not enacted lightly, hence his call to Sam. Sam was an old friend; they'd attended their graduate training together at NYU and then had the same supervisor for their certification hours. They'd studied together for their licensure exam and were also active in the local chapter of therapists and social workers. They were colleagues but also friends. Sam had been his first choice when he heard about John.

Peter came into the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was using a second towel to dry his hair and Michael smiled appreciatively at the sight.

"If we didn't have to go to work...." Michael eyed him and unconsciously licked his lips. "You shouldn't be allowed to walk around the apartment like that, love." Michael said as he walked up to Peter and gave him a kiss on the mouth. He reached under the towel and groped Peter's cock.

Peter swatted his hand away. "We don't have time, as you said. Besides, you promised to call Sam this morning and I don't want you to get distracted." Peter draped the towel he was using to dry his hair and placed it around his shoulders.

"Tease. I already called Sam and I'm meeting him for lunch at the corner deli." Michael said as he swatted Peter on the butt.

"Thank you. I wish I could come, but I have that important meeting this afternoon and my boss was already questioning me about my performance a few days ago."

Michael raised his eyebrow. "You didn't say anything."

"I assured him it was personal and I was just dealing with a friend in crisis. Little did I know how much of a crisis.  He knows John and I don't want him to think badly of him, especially in light of everything that has happened." Peter went back in the bathroom to hang up both towels and walked toward the bedroom to get dressed. He stopped midway, turning to look at Michael.

"Shit, Darren! Should I call Darren and tell him what happened? I mean I can't tell him that John lost it when he went for an interview at another company. But he was there for work and I'm sure Darren will want to hear how the pitch went with the company. What should I do?"

Michael went up to his partner and hugged him tightly, and then kissed his neck and mouth lightly.

"You won't tell him anything. It's not yours to tell. John is sick and will most likely need some time off to take care of things. He needs to tell Darren. I know you want to protect John, but this time you really can't. We don't know all the answers. For now, you go to work and do your job."

"But what about his sister? Should I tell her? I know she's worried when she doesn't hear from him. Remember last time he went to Pittsburgh and she didn't know where he was; she called all over town."

"Same answer, dear. I know he's your friend and you're a great friend to worry about him. We need to know more. We'll visit him tomorrow, talk to him and the doctors, and then we can make a better decision. You said that he was supposed to be gone until the end of the week. While Darren probably will wonder how the pitch went, he knows that sometimes the companies don't make up their minds right away. As for his sister, she isn't expecting him in the city until the weekend, so she won't be calling him."

"Smart. I guess I better get some clothes on." He pulled away from the embrace. "I love you."

"We'll figure this out." Michael assured him as he watched Peter disappear into the bedroom.

After finishing his coffee, he grabbed his briefcase and took the bus to his office where he reviewed his appointments for the next few days. He hated cancelling appointments, but it wasn't ethical to meet with clients when his mind was elsewhere and unlike other professions he couldn't get anyone to cover his cases in his absence. Looking around his office, he looked at his diplomas from NYU, seeing the bold black lettering on the white parchment announcing to the world that he had passed the strict credentialing necessary to be a therapist, but right now he felt extremely inadequate. He wondered what he was going to do.

He updated his billing and read some professional journals to fill up his morning.  He took the elevator down to the street level and walked out into the crisp autumn air. The exhaust from the multitude of cars and the cacophony that only a New Yorker can appreciate, surrounded him as he made his way to the designated corner deli. The door jingled as he opened it and he made his way to an empty table as he waited for Sam. A few jingles later he spotted Sam, waving him over to his table.

"The usual?" Sam asked.

"Sure," Michael said as he watched the young couple in the next table as they laughed at some unknown joke.

Sam was back at the small wooden table in just a few minutes. He sensed Michael could benefit from a beer and brought them each a Sam Adams beer on tap. Sitting down, Sam looked at his long-time friend, seeing the worry creases on his normally smooth face. Taking a drink from his beer, he waited for Michael to share why he'd been summoned.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice." Sam watched Michael swallow hard and he smiled at him, encouraging him to continue. "Well uh...I ... I need your help. Peter has this friend, John. John got himself into a little trouble with the law and they sent him for evaluation." Michael took a drink from his beer, then swirled the bottle on the table, playing in the condensation left there by the bottle. "He kind of went off the deep end, thinks he's in a relationship with some artist. They, the artist and his partner, got a restraining order and when he showed up at the partner's firm, hugging the artist and declaring his love for him, they called the police." Michael looked at his friend, hoping he got the gist of the situation without any further explanation.

Sam bit into his sandwich, nodding his head as he gleaned a clearer picture of the situation. The lunch time crowd had begun to thin, most of the tables were empty. Glancing at the busboy cleaning the table next to them, he waited until he took the last of the dishes away before speaking.

"Does your friend have a history of problems?"

"No. Peter's known him for years and there was never any indication of a problem."

"Has he been under a lot of stress lately? Broken up with anyone? Anyone die or is sick?"

"Now I know what my patients feel like." Michael grinned as he responded. He took a bite of his sandwich, feeling hungry for the first time since he sat down. Hoping that Sam would offer to help, he'd met his friend and colleague eagerly, but he knew there was a chance that Sam would decline and if he did, Michael would have to think of a different solution.

"I've known John for several years. Peter and I have been together for about three years, well five if you count the time we dated and didn't live together." A dish clanged into a pail and the noise was heard all over the small deli. Michael turned his head to find the location of the sound, but then turned his head back to Sam. "He's had several hook ups; some lasting as long as six months, but nothing ever permanent. I'm really thrown for a loop here. Professionally, he doesn't really meet the criterion. I mean he's almost 30 and that is a little old to have your first psychotic break."

Sam finished his sandwich and threw his napkin in the plate. He'd cleared his afternoon to meet with Michael; the impression he'd gotten from their short conversation was their lunch meeting was anything but a ‘guy's lunch'. Unfortunately he was correct. Excusing himself, he went to the line and ordered another beer for himself and returned to the table.

"What can you tell me about him? The more I know before I go in, the better I'll be prepared. You do realize that I don't have a license to practice in Pittsburgh. I'm not even sure the police will let me see him, but I can talk to the doctors in charge, professional courtesy does go a long way sometimes."

After finishing his sandwich and beer, Michael took the plates and empty glasses and placed them on the adjacent table. He went to the counter and ordered a second beer as well. Pausing to take a few draws before he continued, he thought about his relationship with John before he answered.

"John has one sister and appears to be pretty close to her. She's a great woman, well as far as her relationship with John is concerned. They talk pretty often. There appears to be a family connection, they were having a party for their Dad's birthday a few weeks back and his sister was coordinating the event. That was our first clue that something was off with John. She was trying to talk to him about the party and couldn't find him. She called Peter to see if he knew John's whereabouts. She knows he's gay and has met several of his partners through the years. She's gone out with us a few times- the four of us have hit the pizza place over in Soho. She's never given any indication that she has a problem with his sexuality and from the conversations about his dad, it appears that he's okay with it as well. So I think the gay thing isn't an issue." Michael was glad that it was Sam who was interviewing him rather than an unknown professional. He understood where the questions were coming from and realized he would most likely have asked the same ones.

"I feel like a witness in a crime drama." Michael said as he frowned at the analogy.

"On tv it always seems so obvious, cut and dry. The guy is guilty; they catch him and he goes to jail. End of story." Michael thought about the many tv shows they'd watched and it struck him how far from reality they really were. "And to think people watch those for entertainment."

"True life is often not so entertaining," Sam said as he watched his friend struggle with the situation.

"We watch 'cop shows' a lot. It always makes me feel good that they catch the bad guy. But I guess that is tv, not reality. Still, all of a sudden, I'm not nearly as enamored with them." The little deli was almost deserted at this point in the day. A tv hung in the corner and a rerun of CSI New York was playing in the background. Michael looked up and frowned at the irony.

"You can't blame yourself for not recognizing John's situation. He's smart. From everything you've told me, he's employed, successful and he has a good relationship with his family. There were no red flags," Sam said as he reached his hand across the table and touched Michael. "Unfortunately, not every stalker is a text book case and it appears that John is one of the unusual ones. No one really knows what triggers episodes and I doubt we, as professionals will ever truly understand. The important thing is he is in protective custody right now. We need to go see him, talk to him and talk to his doctors. Hopefully we can intervene and at least take him back to New York."

"So you'll go? I mean... I was hoping....Do you think they will let you take him across state lines? I mean..."

"Yes, I'll go. Michael, you're a great friend and a colleague, either one would be enough for me to do this. I'll have to clear my schedule, but luckily I was planning on attending a two day seminar on working with returning Vets, but if I call, I can probably move it to a different session next month.  We should get this sorted out by then."   He placed a call to his assistant, explaining the situation and put away his phone.

"I know they have a restraining order against him, and he was taken from the scene. I highly doubt he could be charged with anything other than disobeying a restraining order, although some fancy lawyer might argue that it was third degree assault since he was hugging the guy. Even that would not be a felony, so again, he probably would go free, and told to report to court. Probably be told to stay away from the artist." Sam said as he clarified the information Michael had provided.

"Yeah. Sounds about right. But then the real work begins. We have to convince John that the artist isn't his boyfriend. That may take some doing, with all the elaborate tales he's made up."

"True. But we have no way of knowing without talking to him. We can speculate all day, but never have any answers until we talk to John." Sam said, reminding Michael of the obvious. "I know as his friend, you're just trying to make sense of the situation and talking about it makes you feel better."

"I knew you were a great therapist." Michael said, the teasing obvious.

"I've got to get a few things from home and I'll call a friend I have in the police department. Maybe he can shed some legal light on the issue. Why don't you pick me up in the morning? They won't release him any time soon.  We've got three days."

"Great. I'll tell Peter. Hopefully, he can join us. I know he's anxious to help."

"Be careful, Michael. I'm not sure how much Peter understands about mental illness, but he needs to understand that telling his friend to get over 'the artist' isn't going to be helpful."

"I know. We'll talk tonight. He's smart. He'll understand. See you early in the morning. Thanks again, Sam." Michael stood up and so did Sam. The two men hugged and left a few dollars for a tip for the busboy. Each man walked out to get ready for their trip.

TBC