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His scarred hands grip the crayon so hard Mikey worries it’ll snap as it shakes weakly in his fist. The pencil falls to the paper with a sharp smack, and his tears swiftly follow it. It’s been weeks of this rinse and repeat, just shaken garbage filling the pages he used to love so dearly. He tries not to let it get to him, to put a smile on his face, but it hurts.
Just some good old-fashioned Mikey hurt/comfort :)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41993160