"I don't know," he replied, honestly, letting out a bit of a laugh himself, "I don't know. Anywhere else?"

It's what he would've done. Run as far and as fast as he could from the cowering, sweating, screaming man on the floor. And, yet, she pulled him closer, tried to take his pain, even though he told her it would kill her.

"I just don't want to be with anyone else right now. Not even me."

He usually did so well, just being alone. Just having space, time, everything to himself. Just then, however, he needed to have her hold him, to fill the void, be a piece of his empty mind. That was, perhaps, selfish. He couldn't find a way to care.