And it's the way his expression breaks, the way it falters that all but breaks his damn heart. Mick's anger melts away and his shoulders slump. So it's not him. Fine. But that still doesn't answer what changed or why.

"Look. I know I'm a fuckup and I know I ain't the smartest," he allows softly, "but I don't understand. I don't Lenny," he hates the pleading note to his voice as he leans against the counter and scrubs a hand across his face.

"Used to be a time you'd at least let me hold your hand. Now I can't and I don't know what changed."