It strikes him for a moment that Chris sounds like Jon, saying Wolfe is his victim. It's true, to a point, but he shakes his head regardless. His voice comes thick and miserable, but there's still an edge of softness to it only ever reserved for Chris. "We're both victims. None of this is right, or fair, or just."

Wolfe's hands tighten in the back of Chris' jacket, bunching the stiff fabric as if he's afraid Chris will pull away from him. "I don't know what way there is, but I'll do anything to get us back to rights again. I can't keep feeling like this. Like I'm hurting you by reaching for you. Like I'm just a reminder of what they made us do."

That's what he feels like; a tool for harming others. A focus of misery and a reminder of failure. Wolfe burrows his nose further into Chris' shoulder. "It is my place because I won't let myself be just a victim, Chris. I'm your boyfriend. I'm your Champion, aren't I?"

He steels himself to lift his head, eyes red-rimmed and puffy on a face that nearly never shows such sorrow, but he locks them with Chris' all the same. "I don't have any answers. I just have this heavy, hollow feeling and how it's less when you're near."