[He says his name quietly, weakly, not quite a protest but something more like an admission, and acknowledgement. He's shivering a little, feeling overwhelmed just from this-- he's never liked to make himself vulnerable, to be weak, even if it's easier with Keith. Still. It's a lot. And the guilt still coils in his chest, despite himself. He hugs Keith back, his touch gentle even as he shifts a little to hold him up, mindful even now of his leg, of not wanting to hurt him.]
[He doesn't know what to say to that, how to protest against it-- knows, of course, that he'll never convince Keith anyway. He clings to him a little, ducks his head and presses his face gently into his hair, trying to steady his breathing.]
[Behind him, the words glow painfully bright and, slowly, new words form just below it, glowing fainter but no less readable. I'm not worth saving and directly below it: I want to believe you even though I know you're wrong.]