It's not about that--[He tries to protest when she says she can take care of herself, but even if she's not yelling, he's not loud. He just shrinks into the wall and wishes--no. He doesn't. He wouldn't take it back. He just takes her anger like a punch to the throat and knows that he deserves it. He deserves to feel like shit, hurting her like that.

He only raises his gaze again when she turns back, his expression profoundly miserable, but almost stubbornly resigned to it.]

I'm scared to--I was scared to die. Personally. With no take-backs.

[Without his noticing, he lifts a hand to his chest, as if to reassure himself still that the sword is not there, the wound is not there, his chest is whole and his lung is whole and he is not dying in front of his brother all over again, not dying in Xion's arms.]

But there are things I just can't fucking live with. Not again. Not ever. So it didn't matter if I was scared or not. I wouldn't accept any other outcome.