Mick doesn't even notice the way he curls in on himself in the chair. Like he's trying to fend of some coming blow. He doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't. The fire had just.. gotten away from him. A roughened voice that he couldn't place if his life depended on it saying ".. it wasn't your fault.. just a dumb kid.."

"Didn't mean for it to happen," he manages, but it's so so hard to breathe, his chest going all tight.