Of course its my fault. You're here because of me.

[Zhaan is probably here too. Every person who's ever been at the receiving end of his pistol is probably here somewhere on top of that.

He swallows thickly and picks up his head after he's managed to swallow his personal grief. His skin remains pale, the corners of his eyes damp and red.

It may have been his fault, but this wasn't about him.]

I love you, Aeryn. And I would've traded anything I've ever known to have been strong enough to prevent this.