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“Okay.” Nate bent to move a piece of wood out of his way.

“What are you doing?”

“This needs stacking.”

“It can wait.”

Nate picked up another piece of wood. Anything to keep moving. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Nate.”

“What?” That came out sharper than he’d intended.

Leo went quiet.

Nate straightened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… Fuck.”

“I know you didn’t.” Leo came closer. “But put the ax down. Please.”

Nate looked at the handle in his hand. For some reason, being asked to let go of it made his throat close.

Ridiculous.

He was being ridiculous.

He set the ax against the block and pulled off his gloves.

“I don’t understand how anyone could do that to you,” he said.

Leo stared at him.

“I keep trying to understand it, and I can’t. You were already on the floor. You couldn’t—” Nate stopped. “They could have stopped. They should have stopped.”

“Yes,” Leo said.

“Someone should have been able to help you. You shouldn’t have had to die like that.”

“They tried.”

“I know they tried. I know that.”

Leo looked at him helplessly, and Nate hated himself for putting that expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not asking you to make it make sense.”

“I know. It’s okay. I mean, it’s not. But you know.” He waved his hand vaguely. “I’ve had a long time to get used to being dead.”

For some reason, that sentence finished Nate. His eyes burned. He wiped at them with the heel of his hand, annoyed with himself, with everything.

“I love you,” he said. “And I can’t stand that someone did that to you, and I can’t do a fucking thing about it.” He hadn’t meant to say it like that, as if loving Leo were another thing he was angry about.

Leo’s mouth opened, then closed. “I know,” he said quietly. “That you love me, I mean. I’d figured it out.”

Nate let out a breath that hurt. “Right.” He almost laughed. He might have, if Leo hadn’t reached for him then.

His fingers passed through Nate’s wrist.

They both looked down.