They talk.

"I don't think I could handle you doing that to me again."

He hears the quaver in her voice, smells the tears that well up again, and automatically, his hold tightens. "I will not."

A snort. "Understand if I don't quite believe that yet."

"Fair."

She manages to keep her tears in and flings an arm around him, squeezing tight. "We need therapy."

Sesshoumaru cranes his neck down, incapable of hiding his skepticism. "If that is what you want." Still, he wrinkles his nose as he says it.

Poking him, she almost laughs. "I said need—not want."