Birkin closed his own eyes, leaning forward a bit to rest his chin on the top of Stein's head. Time to face the music... "I don't know how I can help you," he murmured, choking back a sob. "...I'm sorry, Franken." So this was it. Stuck taking care of a disease he couldn't cure for someone who couldn't even look at him without panicking. What could he do other than drug Stein up until he was barely conscious and nothing more than a dead body that just looked like him? Birkin furrowed his brow. No chance in hell he was going to let that happen.

"If just being away from your world doesn't help, it's going to take some time for me to think of a solution. But I need you to promise me one thing in the meantime." Birkin lifted his head up, hoping Stein would do the same. "Please stop trying to hurt yourself. It won't do you any good."