More than anything it hurts. That same face. The exact same face. Every piece and part of it. The same voice, low in his ears, and those thoughts. That anyone could ask that of him. Ever.It tears at everything he created in his stupidity.

He knows what it did once. He'll never forget that.

"He needs me."

Even if his tone leaves the second word inflected far more heavily toward a completely different point and word. Which probably, none of his thoughts or words are helped, when he doesn't stop himself from reaching out and brushing his fingertips across Carlisle's cheek bone.