Sam slowly wet his lips and shook his head. "No, I don't, Sparky. I really don't. I don't underestimate anything about that poor kid. He's more capable of shouldering things than all use adults are collectively. It's his urge to take care of the people he loves that complicates this because right now, how he is, he's not well enough to. You have to remember his past dissociative amnesia and any blow could cause that to relapse. He might check out again and it might be for a very long time. He knows you're sick, he knows I am. But I guarantee you right now, he can't calibrate that and I don't want to pressure him with anything more than is absolutely vital." He saw the change in Mark when something must've crossed his mind and hit him hard, so he put his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder. "We'll get through it, Sparky. We always do. And look... okay. I would do it in that fictional scenario. It would be just part of the process. But any future kid in that scenario would be nothing more than Justin's cousin. Not his sibling." And that's where he finally got to the crux of the struggles.

"Sparky..." He sighed wearily and rubbed his forehead between eyes where a painful headache was setting in. "That's like asking why you're not pissed at Justin for walking into the ocean at Bondi. You have a mental illness. You didn't let anything happened. You're unwell, you need treatment. You're self-sabotaging and that's destructive. It's as simple and as complicated as that. I would never be pissed at you for any of this. I might get frustrated and upset because as you know in caring for Justin, sometimes things can get too much but fuck, I would never blame you. You're blaming yourself enough for everyone and that's why you're ill and it's exacerbating. Come here..." He pulled Mark into a hug, holding him close and rubbing his back. "I love you, okay? I need you to never forget that. We'll get you back on track and then you can take care of me with my shit."