"He is my friend!" Carlisle roars, ink trailing from the corner of his mouth. He pushes his glasses to the top of his head with one hand, the other curling against itself as he bites back another painful throb behind his eye.

"You, you said you wouldn't hurt me!" he argues, trying to find a reasonable solution, desperate to find some way to settle this other than the obvious solution. His head aches again, fighting him, pushing what control he has nearly out of his grasp. "By doing this, you make yourself a liar! What good are you without your word?!"