That was, probably (certainly), a question that shouldn't be posed to Louis, but Daniel doesn't have anyone else. He meant it, he doesn't want to, and yet there is a vicious self-loathing kind of practicality that puts the option on the table. It wouldn't be a heroic sacrifice, Daniel Molloy is not the type, but it would solve a swathe of problems that seem beyond overwhelming from his current vantage point.

Louis touches him again, sounds so shattered. It makes Daniel feel cared for in a way he hasn't in decades, but there's also a contrary part of him that's— you know, like, hey, you didn't even consider that from a logical standpoint.

Death has not changed him from being a weird asshole, apparently.

But Daniel makes himself crawl up out of his own bleak pragmatism, and reaches out to rest his hands on Louis' sides.

"Alright. Alright, Louis. I'm not going anywhere."