Leo, who asked him to come, and maybe not entirely because it was Carl's request. Leo, who hovered for the entirety of the service somewhere around Markus's elbow with a paper-thin presence, but never once moved to apologize. Elijah's right: he doesn't owe his brother anything. Not resentment, not hate, not affection.

If he had time, though, he thinks, he'd stay. Just a little while longer.

"Your parents," Markus starts, broaching the segue with couched interest; it's hard not to dwell on how little he knows about the man that made him. "is that why you..."

Left. Hid. Walked away from the world and his creations in totality.