Alan held his mug by the handle, considering the steam rising from it before looking at Will. His friend had barely looked at him since he entered, and guilt was something Alan recognised well. “I don’t want to be angry at you, Will,” Alan told him, and he sounded as worn out as he felt. “I’m not angry at you anymore. It still hurts to think about, but I’m not angry. I know you’re all buggered up and you weren’t trying to hurt me.”