[ It had to be you. It makes Gansey ache, makes his chest strain painfully as though there's a hole inside it.

Why did it have to be him? How did he deserve to live any more than Noah? The answer resounds very clearly in him; he doesn't deserve it. He'd stood on a nest of hornets. He'd been unwary, and he'd stood on it, and the hornets had stung him in vast numbers and his allergy had done the rest.

It hadn't been fair, of course. How could it be? Death was never really fair for anyone, but it had been natural. It had been caused, if by anything at all, by Gansey's own foolishness. Even at ten years old, he should have known better than to play in the trees like that. He should have been watching where he put his feet. But Noah? Noah had been murdered. No blame is on his shoulders. Life had been taken from him, and it isn't right.

His arms tighten around his friend. This is a thing they so rarely talk about, and it's painful now. Gansey has never done well with confronting his own fears. It's so much easier to bury them, to lock them away. His jaw touches against Noah's shoulder, and he realizes he's leaned his head down. ]

I don't deserve it more than you.

[ HIs words are quiet, very nearly whispered. ]

Someone decided that for me. I want to make it right, Noah. I want to choose you.

[ He makes himself lean back to see Noah's face. Gansey's voice strengthens. ]

I said I would, when I found Glendower. But these gods brought you back, Noah. You have a choice now. Please don't run from it this time. I promise you, I will help you cope with it.

You're so quick to say you'd die for me. Can you live, instead?