[ A swell of conflicting emotions rises, with guilt and relief chief among them. You're not that other one, offered so quickly, even with the barest explanation of the truth. It's not so different from what was said to him in the moment, You're not this man.

But it'd been easy enough to prove them wrong, with the swivel of his revolver and a cold click. He huffs a breath of air, humourless. ]

Pretends he doesn't get the multiverse, then reels off three theoretical case studies.

[ He reaches out to grasp Cain's shoulder, a light shake. Fitz attempts to catch his eye this time. ]

I appreciate that, more than I — I can say.

[ Never quite has the words for such things, even though he thinks of Cain following him on a ruined planet or protecting him on Mars, too. ]

But it matters 'cause it wasn't some other Fitz. [ pressing a hand to his chest, curling into his dirtied shirt. ] It was me. [ A quick nod, more to himself. He lived that timeline, his every deed propelling it onward and bringing it crashing into the world he calls home. ] It still is me, and if I don't own that, if I don't do better — then I'm not doing myself or anyone hurt by me, then and now, justice. [ firmer. ] And I'm certainly not the man my partner deserves.

[ More than anything, he has to be able to look her in the eye, when they meet again. ]