His chest aches but he can't place why, that terrible black pits seethes in anger, thrashes in his chest, wants to blame the woman standing in front of him for it all. The mark on his hand, the ache in his chest, the absence of so many things he ought to remember but can't. His head aches more and more with each attempt, like a blade piercing deeper and deeper with no promise of release.

Yet he can't, as much as apart of him might, Adrian struggles to shift all the blame upon Six's shoulders. She looks so much smaller than she did when he first spotted her, as though she had shrunk two sizes since their conversation had began. He can see only sadness in her eyes, a pain that sinks right to her very core.

"I..." He breathes out, dropping his gaze to the ground beneath his feat, "I wish you had been as well, I wish I hadn't woken up alone."