“He doesn’t think that.”
“You don’t know what he thinks. He won’t even look at me.”
“He needs time.”
Dredyn’s laugh is bitter. “How much time? How long until he forgives me for letting him carry that guilt when I knew—I fuckingknew—that nothing he said or did would’ve changed what happened because my father ordered it?”
“He’ll come around,” I say anyway, because what else can I offer?
“Will he?” Dredyn unwraps his hands slowly, wincing as the tape pulls at split skin. “Would you? If I’d done that to you?”
I want to say yes, want to promise that our brotherhood is stronger than secrets and lies. But standing here, watching my best friend bleed from self-inflicted wounds while my other best friend locks himself away in grief and rage, I’m not sure anymore.
“I don’t know,” I admit, and the honesty tastes like failure.
Dredyn nods, like he expected that answer. “You should go check on Mara. She doesn’t need to wake up alone.”
“She’s fine. Ghost is with her.”
“The cat’s not enough.”
“Neither am I, apparently. Neither are you. Neither is Jasper. We’re all just… breaking in our own ways, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
Dredyn studies me—really looks at me for the first time tonight. “You okay?”
“No.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “No, I’m really fucking not. But that’s not important right now.”
“Talon—”
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Just go take a shower. Clean those hands. Try to sleep.”
“You’re not fine.”
“Says the guy who just spent three hours trying to punch his feelings into submission.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because I’m supposed to be the fuck-up. You’re supposed to be the one who holds us together. You’re the glue, man. You always have been.”
And there it is, the expectation that I’ll somehow paste the fractured pieces back together and make everything okay again.
Except, I can’t.
The glue is coming undone.
“What if this is too broken to fix?”
“Then we live with the cracks.” Dredyn claps my shoulder, grip firm despite the blood on his hands. “But we don’t give up. Not on each other, not on her. We find a way through.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. But I know we can’t do it by pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.” His eyes bore into mine. “So stop holding it together for us and let yourself fall apart for once. We can handle it.”
Can they though? Can any of us handle more breaking when we’re already shattered?
I don’t say that out loud, just nod, step back, and head for the stairs.
