Forgiveness was a strange concept to Kit. He had never really needed it before, had never been in a position to deserve it. His prior deeds were committed with a clear conscience, both in his human lifetime and afterwards. He was a crook, a criminal, someone who had frequently stolen from others and used his skills to evade having to face up to his actions. The number of bodies that lay in his wake after being turned, uncountable as they were, had never been thought upon with the same measure of guilt and sadness as the one death he couldn't remember causing.
The touch of Mona's warm hand against his cold cheek brought a level of comfort that Kit couldn't explain, her words of reassurance and hope having the same effect on his long-dead heart. "I don't deserve it," he said plainly. "But I'm grateful for it all the same."
Deep down, Kit knew that things would be okay eventually. Life didn't stop for anyone or anything. While it would take a while for the wounds inflicted in London to heal, time would pass and the horrors of the previous few days would become a memory. For now though, it would be difficult.
"It will be okay eventually," Kit said, giving Mona one final squeeze before pulling back. As much as he appreciated the warmth her body provided, he didn't want her to grow too chilly from his touch. Yet he didn't move too far away, still within touching distance should she need him. "Until then, let me know if there's ever anything I can do for you. Anything at all. I...I want to help, if you'll let me."