Guilt, grief, and pain were corrosive toxins in his veins, tearing him apart from the inside out. He let them, made them, because these memories were awful but they were things that made sense. That aching loss was all he knew and understood. If he lost sight of them all he had was the unfamiliar cruelty he'd witnessed tonight. He didn't know how to face this yet. He didn't know how to compartmentalize it into something he could tolerate.
