I'm still on the bridge. He's yelled and screamed and begged me to leave for the past ten minutes. Each time he opens his mouth, he hesitates longer. Each time he hesitates, I feel renewed confidence that I'm doing the right thing. That he is lying to me. That he needs me and wants me and is still, deep down, as lonely and frightened as he was all those years ago.

I look into his face. He's hiding his true feelings from me. I know he is. I know him. He has a mask on right now; a mask of hatred and anger, but, I know he needs my help. I know he regrets what happened and wishes he could change his past and make everything better again. He just won't admit it. He is just too stubborn. He's just lying to himself.

Why won't he listen to me? I repeat the question over and over in my mind. Why does he want me gone? Does he really think I'm his problem? Does he think his heart made him lose the war with Earth?

I twirl a few strands of hair and frown. Well, okay, maybe he's got a point there. I did keep him from winning. He's not thinking, though. Why doesn't he realize that he didn't stop because he was weak. He didn't stop because he couldn't succeed. He stopped because he realized it was wrong. Why isn't he thinking right now? Why is he pushing me away? He's treating me like a weakness. I'm not a pest. I'm not a nuisance. I'm just…I…

I ball my free hand into a fist and look away from him. He's so stubborn. Why is he so determined to hate me? He knew destroying Earth was wrong. He knew it deep down in his heart. There's nothing wrong with realizing your actions are wrong; with changing your mind and deciding on a new course of action.

I squeeze my hand tighter and force it to stop shaking. I can't look weak right now. I can't. The weaker I look, the more he'll fight me and I can't leave him. I can't abandon him. He needs me. He's-

Going to make a huge mistake.

I tug on the clump of hair and scrunch up my face. There's that voice again. Why's it bothering with me? I'm plenty aware that he's going to get into trouble. He always gets into trouble. That's…that's what I'm here for. I'm here to remind him that he is a part of this universe. That he is important. That, because he's part of the universe, he can't ignore his past actions. That we have to accept the past and move forward from it. That we can't keep brooding on it. He needs me. He needs me to shout this in his face and tell him to stop focusing on the past and stop hating himself for not living up to the expectations of others.

I need to stop. I unclench my fist and let go of my hair. I need to stop and just hug him. I couldn't do that before. Not really. I couldn't be there to show him that he doesn't need to hate himself. I crawl forward and put my hands on his arms. He pulls away from me. His face twists into a snarl and I see panic and distrust in his eyes. This isn't going so well.

When he speaks, his voice is weak, but full of the same stubbornness I've dealt with every day since he shoved me down. "Don't touch me." He pushes himself further away from me, even though I've remained in place. What is he doing? "Don't. J-just…get out. Get. Out. I hate you."

I crawl closer to him. "I'm not leaving you." I can't leave him. I have to help him. That's my job, I think. No matter what he says or how far down he shoves me in his heart, I will stay by him and help him. He might say he doesn't want my help, but, deep down, I know he needs me.

"Go away." He moves away from me again. "Leave me alone, you nuisance."

"I'm not leaving, Giegue." It's a strange experience, talking to myself. To him. I look down at my hands. Can I call myself Giegue? I mean, I…I am Giegue. I know I am. That's one of the few things I'm sure of. Stop it, I tell myself. You can't afford to worry about who you are. You know that. You're as much Giegue as he is. You're…you're…a nuisance. That's what he called me. A nuisance. I straighten myself up and stare right at him. He can go ahead and call me that if he wants. I know I'm helping him.

He's up against a wall. His ears are flat against his head. I reach out towards him and he flinches. Does he think I'm going to hurt him? I frown and lean back. Okay, then.

He's starting to shake. "I don't need you. Get out."

"Of course you need me." I smile at him. He's not looking so good. The dark rings around his eyes are more pronounced.

"I have no need for you. You are just…you are just a waste of space. A useless castoff." He pulls his legs up against his chest.

My ears go flat against my head. He's…he's said things like this before, but, this is the first time I've felt out of place. Hearing him call me a castoff and a waste of space…it sends my thoughts in directions I'd rather stay away from. Just don't focus on what he's saying, I tell myself. Look at him. He's a wreck. I can't tell if he's sick or just pulling away from me. Either way, I'm concerned. I lean forward and stretch a hand out towards him. "Hey, are you o-"

He swats my hand away. "OUT!"