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The store manager, showing obvious concern for Micky's health, let them go without having to pay for any of the food. Micky tried to stay collected while they were still in the store, but he broke down as soon as they walked out to the parking lot. He sobbed and sobbed.

"Shh, shh." Michael was trying his best to be comforting, but it wasn't doing much. He put the snacks in the car before gently helping Micky into the back. He climbed into the back with him and wrapped his arm's around Micky, rocking him gently back and forth. "What happened in there?"

"Th-The man," Micky cried. He hiccuped.

"What man? I didn't see anyone in there, babe."

Micky just cried harder. He tried to hide his face from Michael, but the Angel gently grabbed his wrists and held them still. He hated seeing his boy so upset.

"Can you tell me what he looked like, Micky? Can you do that for me?"

Micky sniffled and hiccuped again. He swallowed a lump in his throat and let out a shaky breath, but it didn't help much. He was still a teary mess.

"Please Mick?" Michael gently squeezed his hand.

"He...bl-blond hair. Dirty blond. And br-brown eyes. He was r-real pale Mike, like you. He...He looked straight at me and then the p-pain...the pain...Please don't let him g-get me!"

Micky cried fresh tears and Michael did his best to soothe him. He whispered comforting words and held him close, but on the inside he was seething. He knew exactly who Micky was talking about.

Peter.

He had found them.

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