And maybe it’s the fear in his voice. Maybe it’s that I notice Monty has tried to stop the blood by pressing that ridiculous hat Percy knit for him against the bullet hole, but it’s slipped down and nestled against his side. Maybe it’s that Percy isn’t just precious to me, but he’s half my brother’s heart. I’ve never seen fear like this in Monty. I’ve never seen fear like this in another human, as Monty presses his hands to Percy’s face and his forehead to his and begs him to open his eyes, to breathe, to survive.
