I don't know about that. I think you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. You would not have come so far just to kill yourself that close to the end. However, I won't argue with your other point.

[A sheepish look crosses his face.]

I think the traditional, romantic, emotional side of me just wants everything to be like so. To name things as they should be when really they can't be that way or shouldn't be that way anymore. The world has changed and yet I still try to label things like thousands of years haven't passed. You are right. If our promises to each other aren't enough, what will be?

[Diarmuid slides off the bed to go to the trunk as directed. When he sees the swords, his eyes light up. It doesn't matter to him that they are only film. They are something Waver put a lot of time into for him and even more they are replacements for the ones he lost. He is about to turn to Waver to thank him when he sees the note and pulls it out to read...

...

The words on it flood him with so many emotions that he cannot speak or even think for a good amount of time. When he finally gets his brain working again, he looks toward Waver...and it's like ice water has been dumped on him. Now that he is looking at his partner after not doing so for a few minutes, Diarmuid can clearly see how feverish and pained the magus has become despite his distraction.

Quick steps bring him back to the bed, swords and note set nearby on the bed stand. After sitting down, Diarmuid reaches out and very lightly brushes his fingers across Waver's too warm face.]

I would give anything to be able to bear even a little of this pain for you. Do you need to lay down?