[He listens until Zane's done. No point in interrupting. Definitely no point in judging. Maybe somebody would make the argument that one or the other of them's the bigger asshole, but really, Zane's just had more time. And how do you measure that, anyway?]

[He wonders briefly what it means to mold someone into the image of what you want them to be - then discards the thought. Too uncomfortable.]

You told me about her, a little. [A pause.] I've done it, I think. That's not why I died, but - maybe it would have been?

And - maybe you won't, but maybe you will. It feels easier to think you won't, I know that, it's easier to just hurt and let the hurt be everything, but -

[His gloved hand rests at Zane's elbow, a steady weight.]

Maybe we were bad people, maybe we were tools, but maybe we can be more.