[Miguel wanted to hold him. Kaine wanted to let him. What a sick game this was, that they were being tortured with. (Torturing themselves with?) All their mistakes, the things they never did. Wasn’t it kinder that they didn’t happen? Bad enough that they had to deal with all the things that did. To pile even more attachment onto that was just cruel.

…Still, it tugs at his imagination. Just another way of licking his wounds, with wishful daydreams instead of brooding.

He still wasn’t looking at him. But he does turn slightly. Not enough to be fully rolled over on his back, but like - enough that he can stare at the ceiling. Towards whatever twisted God let all this happen.]

…Maybe he should’ve.