That name again, and Mike visibly scowls. It's a knee-jerk reaction, and he knows that sigh, too. He's not trying to be difficult--that's the frustrating part. He's not trying to be a pain in the ass, but it happens anyway.

Not once does it occur to him that Liam's to blame. It's always his own fault.

He's pushed, suddenly, face first into the bed and his first thought is not that it's wrong but that at least it's a little better than cold concrete, which happened before. He tries to gasp, tries to breathe and the moment he can't he starts tugging, sharply, at the fabric. Trying to free his arms. It feels like he's dislocating his shoulder with every twist, but he needs up and he needs to breathe properly.

His protests are incomprehensible, yelling into the the bed as his head is held.