[There's a soft thunk as he closes the styrofoam lid in place. Jon doesn't look at him, keeping one hand gently on the lid.

But his voice is quiet and measured:] I told you before. I'm not worth him. I'm not worth his kindness. I knew when I talked to you about it. I knew I wasn't worth it when I spoke to them both. And I knew it was my fault as I watched him disappear before I could even take his hand. I had... plenty of time to think about it alone in the hospital. [The whole night. The whole night he stayed awake thinking about it, rolling it around in his mind and he knows, without any shadow of a doubt, that it's his fault.] I don't need to be reminded.

[Maybe if Tim doesn't look too close, he won't notice exactly why his eyes are blinking so fast. But his voice can't hide how thick it sounds the more he talks.]

It's already too late to say I don't want him hurt. I did that, and I can't take it back, Tim. And I'd be selfish, and it would be unfair, to ask for anything more than him to just... be where he's even willing to speak to me again. I ...can't ask him for more than that.