"I should be with you." He wished there was something in front of them right now, something he could slash to ribbons, to burn this rage out of his weak red blood. "You shouldn't have to do this alone." But that wasn't how it worked. He knew that. On some level. Fate spun its threads; they were but blooms of color on the fabric, woven into their place. He couldn't change it, and it infuriated him even more.