Feeling flooded back into him with a the heat of touch, long, warm, strong fingers wrapped tightly around his gushing wounds. They trembled as they held on, tight to enough to go pale with the strain. James trembled as he met his gaze. Regulus wondered if he would crumble right then. It was what he did, wasn't it? Wrong time, wrong moment, wrong person. How could he help? He couldn't help. His help wouldn't --he couldn't help. He'd never be able to help.