Michael squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, so all he saw was white.
He didn't even know what to feel, much less what to fucking say. He didn't fucking do emotions, goddammit - they were hard and they fucking hurt - he was sad and scared and he hurt, and he had this crazy stupid want to run.
Like Anton'd said - he was brave as hell in a fight, but put an honest-to-Jesus feeling in front of him and he was a fucking coward.
Even being aware of this he couldn't get past a general sort of miserable flail.