Mike doesn’t have hockey anymore. Doesn’t have booze, or more than a measly cup of coffee a day. Can’t properly exercise, handle an entire movie, read more than a chapter of a book at a time, drive up to Duluth without needing a break at every fucking rest stop. Can’t keep his hands from shaking. He has Liam, though, and maybe that’s not much, maybe that’s not enough, but in this moment, it suits him just fine.
