[ With M's forehead pressed warmly against his hip Apollo continues to thread his fingers through his cropped mohawk, running thoughtfully through it with slow, gentle, firm strokes. He hears those sacred little words - I love Andrew - and his heart breaks all over again for the other Apollo, accompanied with a fresh wave of guilt. ]

But you fixed it, [ Apollo points out gently. ] That burned bridge - you fixed it here, in this world. You could do it at home too. He forgave you once, of course he'd forgive you again...

[ The reasons not to do this are mounting up. Apollo would hate himself if he didn't voice them here and now. ]