[ Well, fuck, now Matt's crying again for real. He's always been a sympathy crier, ever since he and Katy-Rose were little kids. He just wanted to do everything with her, feel everything with her, even her little-kid sadnesses.

Matt should really find a way to turn off the part of his heart that aches to soothe people when they hurt him, betray him, scare the shit out of him. It's just that so often, they're in terrible pain themselves. Watching Set sprawled at the foot of the bed like all his strings have been cut, all his strength sapped into the earth, Matt wishes he could comfort him: hug him, stroke his hair. Touch is always more articulate for him than words, no matter how sincere or painstakingly crafted. But he doesn't think Set would appreciate it. So he refrains.

He's quiet for a long moment, sitting still, tears flowing down his cheeks. It takes awhile for his throat to come unstuck enough to say anything. ]

The first time we talked, [ he murmurs, watching Set closely in between blinks--despite the brief detente, he half-expects anything he says to set him off again. ] I didn't know the thing that killed our worlds had a name. I was barely thinking about it at all. But that--

That's what I'll fight.