“Of course you don’t deserve to die. Never.” He curls into Casper’s chest, being held in his lap more comforting than he has any right to.

“‘m not wonderful.” But he sounds almost sulky, now, instead of hysterical. “You’re wonderful.” The soft brush of lips against his head is undoing him. “You’re too nice to me.” His arms loosen a little, to a more normal strength of hug, and his face presses into Casper’s neck. “I’m not— I can’t— I don’t want you to think I’m untrustworthy scum too. Even though I am.”