"I know," he manages, barely a whisper as he folds his legs one under the other, trying desperately to figure out what to say. But there's nothing, or at least nothing that feels like it matters.

But Mick feels like he's miles away and that's not something he's okay with right now. He reaches, uselessly, for him, a wordless request for him to come closer. And when he moves, which Leonard has absolutely no doubt in him doing, he grips the edge of his jacket and tugs him down onto the bed, shifting enough so there's room for him in his rightful place on the bed.

"I just...didn't know how to talk about it. But it was- it was never you...you never did anything wrong." Blind, pointless assurances in the aftermath of the bomb that had been dropped in Mick's lap, but it's the only thing he can make it mouth work to say.