That weight of a familiar hold keeping him together loosens the lump in his throat...but the wrong way and even as the words hit his ears, he knows he can't stop how his face heats and tears blossom under tightly closed lashes. That's not what he wanted to hear. Or is it? His heart pangs in his own uncertainty and guilt and, gods, on some level it must be Amnos, right? To hear what he needs to, even if it's not what he wants or what's easy.

"I don't know if that's better or worse...at least -if I'm dead, it's done and over." If he's not... His breath shudders and he hates how crying makes him feel, but he can't stop. "I don't know what to do. I know I'll come back if I have the choice...but I-" The words lodge and he grits his teeth through it. But if he doesn't, if he never did, he'd never have this, his family. Yet he can taste the crushing weight at the edges, the chains on his wrists in exchange for love and acceptance and support when Duplicity in all it's horrors holds people who love and support and accept him and only him. It's not a fair choice and, on some level, he's scared to ever have to make it because- "I don't know that I want to."