It doesn't sound fine to Chris' ears and he looks down at Hawke there in the sand. The new scars on his arm, the dark circles under his eyes Chris isn't sure have been gone more than a day or two in the last few weeks. He can't fall apart here, on him. He can't just- cry and scream and lash out at nothing or any of the things he can feel clawing under his skin. Because Hawke is here. And he needs him.

There's always someone who needs him, and he doesn't want to feel angry at his boyfriend for showing up, that isn't fair, but none of this is fair...and he's angry anyway. He's angry because he's going to do exactly what he's supposed to and fill the role he's meant to fill...which was all he'd had nightmares about for days.
The thought lances through him harshly and his eyes sting even more as tears fill them. It wasn't the same, he wants to be there for his people...but he's not an endless resource any more than they are and this place just grinds and tears and flays them open as they scramble to put all the pieces together before the next hit comes. He's not going to survive another and no realization has ever made him feel more weak.

Better men would (and did) weather this. A better king would have found a better spot to fall apart to keep it from prying eyes. A better boyfriend wouldn't have been thinking about breaking up with someone who's now left and taken a chunk of himself with him. They all deserved better a better man. Or a man at all. The thought drifts through, lingering from yesterday and his imperfect attempts to rebuild...that.

Chris takes a step towards Wolfe and his knees feel weak as more and more tears track through the water on his face. He half lowers himself and half falls to the sand at Wolfe's side, voice thicker than he'd like when he responds. "Of course, whatever you need."