"No, it doesn't." At least on that they agree. "I meant it, okay, when I said I needed you, cause you were the only thing keeping me alive for a while, but you - you couldn't." His head rolls back with a little strangled gasp, oh god, he can't keep pushing through this, it's too much. He rasps out another sickly cough. "You couldn't stop that thing from taking me and you can't stop this thing either, okay?"

He's so scared. He's so fucking scared. He's going and he's gonna be gone for good, and just because he felt this before doesn't make it any easier now. He grips onto Tim with both hands, desperate to get through to him before it's too fucking late.

"It wasn't your fault," he says through teeth and tears. "It's not your fault now. Please just let me - just - I'm so sorry."

He can't keep stringing words together. He sinks down a little, fingers still wrapped tightly in the fabric of Tim's shirt, his shoulders quaking as he tries to pull himself back together. It's a losing struggle.