[ As Julian spoke, the image of Anna sharpened in Cain's mind. It felt like a punch to the gut, and his abdomen tightened. He curled a little around the pain at his core, and tightened his arms around Julian's middle. One breath, only one, was a little shallow. ]

... that... feeling? That feeling, that you should have done more, should have... done something, found a way. Survivor's guilt.

[ His fingers shifted, drawing back up over Julian's bare body. Half-tentative. He kept his voice soft, but even so it rustled Julian's hair a little. ]

You want me to tell you what I do?