[Already has. And Lloyd, outside the door, wanting in so badly; only conceding after much argument. If Yuan is to be believed, Kratos's son may not even blame him for anything. It seems incredible, inconceivable, that Kratos should still be given that kind of gift, after so long, let alone twice. Let alone more.

[He exhales, his eyes squeezing shut against tears born of entirely different emotions, and his grip around Yuan tightens a fraction.]

I won't know what to do with myself at night.

[They could probably spend the night like this, but Kratos is afraid that the wonder will wear off and his mind will start to fall into well-worn tracks. Yet sleep is impossible. It's going to be months before he tries that again. And tonight doesn't answer the problem of tomorrow.

[If there is an answer, it isn't coming to mind. The quiet, raw remark is as much a plea for direction as a resigned statement of fact.]