[ What can he say to that? Everything is an effort. It would be easier just to lay down and die (it would have been easier to freeze to death up there, and Avery wouldn't know anything, and maybe that would have been kinder).

Too late now. Too late for that. He keeps trying to fix things, and makes them worse instead.. ]

I'm not...going anywhere. [ He doesn't have enough strength to walk out of here any more. He'll bleed to death or his heart will stop; it's only a matter of time.

I won't leave you, he wants to say, but that would be a lie. He can't lie to him. He never really could. ]

I can't even walk...I'll just...stay.

[ He can drag himself a little closer, so he does. He leans against the wall; stone retains heat, so it's at least more comfortable. Easier to talk, to breathe, for whatever time he has left.

He doesn't know how much blood he's lost so far. At the edge of the torchlight, he thinks he can see the smears of it on the floor. By the way his head is starting to spin, it's probably a lot. ]

I should have just...stolen the keys, [ he says, after a moment. Almost conversationally, like he's not dying on the floor, like Avery isn't chained to the wall.

He laughs, weakly, even though he shouldn't. Bitter clarity is settling on him; it makes everything funny, in its own terrible way. ] It would have worked out...better.

[ It's hard to tell whether his erratic breathing is from injury, or from crying. Maybe it's both. He thought being half-frozen had stopped it, but he still has some left, apparently.

He doesn't really need to lose more fluid. But it's going to happen anyway. ]

But all I do is make things worse...

I shouldn't even...be here. Making you watch this...

[ All he'd ever wanted to do was be by their side. And look how that had turned out. ]