Glacius is ever patient, ever understanding, and through him, Carlisle gains some clarity. "Some costs might be too high..." he repeats. "So easily you put into words what I was struggling to express to her. As terrible as losing her again would be, more troubling to me is how she disregards the concerns of those who care for her, seemingly ignores what pain they suffer when she falls... or worse."

And as someone who has been left behind too many times in his brief life, lost so many and struggled to carry on their legacy, Carlisle feels the heft of that concern tenfold. Kate didn't even tell him when she died the first time in Hadriel -- she seems to care, but does she truly? Actions, indeed, speak louder than words, even to someone as wordy as Carlisle.

The agony left in the wake of someone's demise has been heavy on the clergyman's mind lately... especially in regards to Glacius. Perhaps action would do him well, too, but how high is the cost?

He's not sure he wants to know, but he must find out, nebulous reasons forming from desperation in the back of his mind. He closes the gap between himself and his partner, pressing his head to Glacius' chest.

"Hold me, please."