He had come to Elisha's bedside when a bomb had nearly killed the man, and his heart had ached for it. He could remember the warmth of Elisha's hand as he had reached out and squeezed it softly. It had, perhaps, been the start of mending some of the hurt. They had both admitted to things they shouldn't have, that they'd missed one another. And in some ways Hadyn had regretted that, because it made his heart ache more when he laid in bed at night and stared at the wall.

When Elisha spoke, he could only frown before turning his head away. He didn't want to hear his voice, his playful words. It hurt. It hurt so much, and he couldn't stop it. Tears pooled on his lower lashes as he took a ragged breath. Why, why did they have to save him. Why couldn't they have just left him, left him alone. He was already alone, it wouldn't have mattered if he'd died on the cold ground.

"You're not Avery," he said finally, not looking at Elisha as his eyes dipped partly closed.