Everything was overwhelming, the questions, the lack of sureness in Benjy's voice, the knowledge that maybe he could have saved his sister if he'd been fast enough or strong enough. Maybe if he'd jumped in the way this would be a non-issue, but Benjy's arms around him was the calm that Alastair needed, but the catalyst for something else all together. It was not poorly received, though, but greatly needed.
Alastair wrapped his arms around Benjy and buried his face in the crook of the other man's neck. For the first time since the actual night of his sister's death, Alastair was able to cry. He clutched onto his boyfriend, trying not to hurt him, and hyper-aware of his burns. His hands found uninjured patches of skin and he closed his eyes and just let the tears happen.
"I should have been able to do something," he managed. "I was supposed to protect her."