Micky wrapped his arm around Peter, pulling him close as he cried. After a minute or so, Peter felt himself being walked toward the door, led back to the house.

"You ready to go back in?" Micky asked softly and Peter nodded, resting his head on Micky's shoulder as the two of them came back in. Inside, Mike and Davy were seated at the table. Davy was in the middle of saying something to him, when he stopped himself at the sound of the door opening. He looked up, eyes widening when he saw them.

"Is everything okay?"

Micky nodded as Peter pulled away from him.

"He's fine," Micky explained. "You know how Mike gets in the cold."

Peter frowned slightly, a little confused by the statement. He didn't even know what that was supposed to be referring to. But Davy seemed to nod in understanding, which only caught him more off guard. He looked over at Mike, who only held his head down, embarrassed.

Peter sniffled, going to grab himself a tissue. He passed by Mike, trying his best not to look his way. It was just too confusing and weird, but even then, it was hard not to.

Mike looked up from his hands and both just stared at one another for a moment, unable to look away.

"Is everything alright?" Micky asked, looking between the two of them.

Mike couldn't say anything, absolutely transfixed on the image of seeing himself cry. And Peter didn't know what to do, worried that whatever he said would already make a tense situation worse.

Mike frowned but nodded.

"Yeah," he said under his breath, watching as tears refilled in his own figure's eyes.

There was something so…surreal and weird about seeing himself crying. He couldn't explain exactly how it made him feel.

Suddenly, Mike sniffled and wiped his own eyes. He had no idea why he was crying but there was something about everything that had happened in the past few hours that really just got to him.

He quickly looked down, embarrassed. He wasn't about to be seen crying in front of them, he couldn't let them see that.

"C-could I just get a minute…?" He asked softly, wiping his eyes. Before getting a response, he hurried into the downstairs bedroom, closing the door behind him.

In the months they had known one another, Peter had never seen Mike cry, or in such a vulnerable state. Ever. It was a side of Mike he had never seen before, never thought he'd ever see in his entire life. Even in the worst situations, Mike was always closed off from the rest of them, choosing to approach every problem analytically, rather than emotionally.

"Excuse me," Peter said, going to the bedroom and hesitantly opening the door. Sitting in between the two beds was Mike, hugging his knees and resting his chin on his knees, whispering something to himself.

Peter frowned and stepped in, closing the door and went over, sitting down beside him. Frowning, he wrapped his arm around Mike and tried to pull him close, hoping it would bring him some comfort. It only did the opposite. Almost instantly, Mike pulled away and stared up at Peter with wide eyes.

At first, he was slightly hurt by that, thinking it was Mike being rude, until he got a better look at him. Mike didn't look upset, he looked frightened.

Peter sat there, unsure of what to do for a moment while the pieces began to fit together in his mind. Finally, he smiled, looking back up at him.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he said quietly. "You know that, right?"

Mike didn't answer and Peter let out a slight sigh, attempting to embrace him again. This time, Mike didn't fight it. Instead, he just broke down. He didn't quite understand why, but he just couldn't stop it.

Peter closed his eyes, feeling tears of his own form as he hugged Mike. He didn't know what to do.

After a minute, Mike calmed down enough and forced his way out of Peter's grip, staring up back out in the distance.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked him softly. Mike shrugged, beginning to whisper to himself again. Peter frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Mike didn't answer him, letting out a sigh and eventually stopping his rambling.

"I don't know…" Mike admitted. "I really don't know what I'm supposed to do…"

Peter frowned but nodded slowly. He could never understand how Mike always needed to be in control of every little thing going on, but now saw it a little differently. Mike went from total control over his world and life to practically none in the span of one night. Peter would never understand Mike, but could at least understand how things might have affected him.

"It'll be okay," Peter said softly, placing his hand on Mike's shoulder. He tensed up instinctively and sighed, trying to move away from the touch.

"Peter, what're we going to do?"

Peter shrugged, staring off in the direction Mike was looking.

"We'll figure something out, I think. Anything's possible, right?" Peter said, trying his best to stay optimistic, but finding it hard to. If Mike, the leader always in control, didn't know what to do, there was no hope for Peter figuring something out.

Mike frowned, thinking about it for a long time, beginning to whisper to himself again. Peter let out a sigh, trying to listen to Mike's rambles, but unable to make much of it out. After a moment, Mike stopped, slowly nodding.

"Okay…" he said softly. Peter could tell by the look in Mike's eyes that he was already planning something, trying to stay optimistic, whether or not he actually believed a word of it. "Then we'll...we'll figure something out."

Peter looked at him and allowed for a smile to grow on his face.

"Promise?" He asked, holding out his pinky finger. Mike looked down at it and chuckled slightly, but wrapped his finger around Peter's.

"Promise."