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He steps closer.

"I've watched you for three days."

"Two."

"Feels longer."

Despite myself…

I smile. He doesn't.

"You'd sacrifice yourself before letting either of us get hurt."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then don't pretend we're different."

"We're not."

Another step. Only inches separate us now.

"We're exactly the same."

The realization hangs between us. Stubborn. Protective. Terrified of losing the people we love.

"I hate this," I whisper.

"I know."

"I finally got my son back."

His expression softens.

"I know."

"I finally got you back."

His breathing catches almost imperceptibly.

"And now we're walking into something that has already stolen 15 years from us."

He reaches up slowly. Not touching me. Waiting. Giving me the chance to pull away. I don't. His hands settle gently against my arms. Warm. Solid. Real.

"Carys."

I meet his eyes.

"If anything happens⁠—"

"No."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"You listen to me."