Uncertainty flooded in as Dorian stumbled to a stop in front of Bull. He could hear the liquid filling his lungs, somewhere in that one word. Dorian's hands shook, and he wrenched them forward, sending the shards of bloodied ice further into Bull's chest.

He hadn't been thinking. He hadn't meant suffering. Dorian was livid, but this was necessary for his own safety. Suffering wasn't. Nothing personal, bas.

Dorian fell against the wall of ice. He clawed at it, feeling hysterical.

"I was tired, too! I was frightened, too!"

The suggestion hid in the tremble of the words, tight and holding back all of Dorian's grief and surprise. Bull didn't have to do this. He needn't have. Everyone knew he was hurting, they would have cared for him through it.