It doesn't work. Ned doesn't leave. And Burr isn't--Ned steps closer, a warm hand on Burr's shoulder, and Burr is--he can't. He can't.

He grabs Ned by the cravat and drags him down into a kiss. Sloppy and off center and knocking teeth, and before they've even connected for more than a moment Burr is shaking, pulling back, swallowing back panic, tears.

He can't. Not to Alexander. No apology. He closes his eyes, hands gripping the sides of the chair, forcing himself to be iron. His chest is heaving, and--

"I'm bleeding," he says. "I think I can feel it. I'm not--there isn't--"