He's shaking his head slowly, his hand flexing under York's for a moment before he takes a shaky step back, his control already all but shattered and his mind rebelling. York was dead, he'd been there, he'd checked the armor and this...

"..I don't... I can't.." His voice broke this time, the sound he made somewhere between a gasp and a strangled sob. "This isn't... I said goodbye... I took you and then there was North and South and Maine and you're all dead..."

And he'd done it. He'd been the one who'd...

"..I can't..."