Mikey exhales deeply, his gaze fixed on the drawing of the bear that Carmy had handed him. He nods slowly before lifting his eyes back to Carmy. “Yeah, dude, it’s—it’s incredible,” he mutters, his voice quiet, a small but bittersweet smile softening his face.

Carmy’s excitement bubbles over as he leans forward, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “We could really do something with this, Mikey. You and me. It could be a family thing, and—” Mikey cuts him off, placing a firm hand on Carmy’s shoulder. “Yeah, Carm,” he whispers, his tone steady yet tender. “Yeah, let it rip.”

Carmy smiles, the warmth of Mikey’s encouragement sparking hope in his eyes. He opens his mouth to respond, but their moment is interrupted by a sharp voice from the other room.

“Carm, where the hell are the saltines?” Donna yells, her voice slicing through the calm. Carmy flinches before springing into action. “Yeah, I—I gotta get that,” he stammers, grabbing the box from the pantry. He turns back to Mikey with one last smile before heading off, leaving Mikey alone with his thoughts.

As soon as Carmy disappears, Mikey’s shoulders slump. He exhales shakily and retreats into the pantry, his back pressed against the shelves as he lets the drawing slip from his hand. Bringing his hands up to cover his face, he fights back the tears that sting his eyes, the weight of his own thoughts crashing down. He won’t be here for it, he thinks bitterly, his chest tightening.

Moments later, the sound of light footsteps pulls him from his despair. It’s you—the love of his life, and, truthfully, one of the few reasons he hasn’t completely given up yet. You step into the small space behind him, gently closing the door like a shield.

“Mikey, what’s wrong?” you whisper, your voice soft and full of concern. He shakes his head, keeping his hands firmly over his face even as you try to pull them away. “I can’t do this,” he chokes out, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I can’t do this to them. To you.”