[ There's a moment of surprise, almost protest. D may feel a sensation like fingers brushing the hair tenderly off his neck. Not Silco's: these hands are whole, their skin smooth. Losing this much blood was fine with Vincent, so why wouldn't it be fine now?

Though D sounds very certain. And he is a research scientist with an interest in blood. Matt nods carefully, once. He doesn't try to resist the sensation of warmth, of protection. Normally he'd feel embarrassed to accept something like that--he'd try to laugh it off, like he did with Tezcatlipoca. But right now ...

He's tired.

He breathes into the feeling of D's voice, and doesn't try to order the words in his mind. Just lets them come. ]

I miss Quetzalcoatl so much.

[ There are other things, of course. Silco's bottomless hunger, Matt's resignation to being devoured. But this is what pours out first. ]

I know I didn't know her like some of you did. But she's a god, so--I did, in a way. Like daylight, or the wind.

And after he did that, I thought ... fuck him, I'm not going to respond by hating him, or trying to hurt him. I thought about what the Feathered Serpent would do, and that's--

Sacrifice.

So other people can live. Doesn't matter if they deserve it or not.