Cain hadn't meant to do this now. He'd wanted to ask how Fitz was, to make sure Abel could take whatever conversation came out of it, but instead he'd just meandered his way to it and the words had come out in as natural a way as they possibly could.

He can hear Abel's sniffing and crying and still can't look at him, and it makes the tips of his ears and tops of his cheeks burn red that he can't bring himself to lift his eyes up off the floor. It feels like he's locked there, listening to the other man talking - trying to talk - and wondering just how long he would have sat with it if Cain hadn't said something first.

And he's still not looking up when Abel says that, says he can still forgive him, because he can't, but he hears it.

"If I didn't care?" He says, and his free hand scratches agitatedly at his knee as he tries to find some kind of grounding sensation in the way he feels like everything else is oddly unreal. "Of course I fucking cared, I just didn't— Just saying I was sorry never felt like it was going to be enough."

Finally, he looks up and meets Abel's eyes.

"I hurt you, I manipulated you, I lied to you for over a year and threatened anyone who tried to warn you about me." None of that is news. "And the closer you got to figuring it all out, and the more I started to really like you, the more scared I got. Because I knew what the price of my failure would be."

It was either you, or me.

"You should hate me, and I'd deserve that." His breath catches in his throat and he drops his head, quickly rubbing at one eye with his free hand. "But I am sorry. I am, for all of it, and I should've... said something sooner."

He was scared too. Still is.