There was a time when he thought he could fix it. A time where he could just change one little thing and everything would be perfect. Glass. A time where he would be happy. A time where they would still be alive.
He didn't know that it would be impossible. Didn't know that nothing would change. That they'd still end up dead. Shattered. He thought he could do it. That it just might work. That everything would be glass.
As Gabriel stood over her burning body and he knew it, that he, was still broken.
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As Matt cradled her dying body in his arms and wept he knew that it was still broken.
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As Peter was shot by his own niece again, this time without himself watching, his last thought was that it was still broken.
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As Hiro looked over the strings, intersecting, mapping out the possibilities, one last time as the soldiers beat down on the door, he knew that it was always glass. And glass would always one day, shatter.