"That isn't what I meant," Hopeless whispered. "I already had you, Erskine. I already had all of you. When you laughed, when you looked at me, when you slept by me--I had that. Even if you'd figured it out, there was nothing I would have wanted different. Except when you--" His breath caught. "--when I didn't hear them take you--"

When I had to listen to him torture you.

Erskine's thumb caught on the tears trailing down Hopeless's cheeks, and Hopeless's fingers curled into the back of his shirt. "I should have heard them. I should have looked for you. The rest--you didn't kill me, Erskine. Mevolent killed me." It wasn't going to be enough. It had been far too long, too many years, in which Erskine had told himself it was his fault. Hopeless had already said the same of his capture, and while with time the constant reinforcement might have sunk in, they hadn't had that time.

It could well be that Erskine needed to hear something else instead.

Hopeless took Erskine's hand and turned his head just enough, without breaking their touch, to kiss his knuckles. "But I forgive you for the rest."

For taking Hopeless's name, and turning it into something it shouldn't have been; for taking it, and removing the irony so it was truth instead of pointed.