It is, quite literally, the hardest thing he's had to do in his entire life. Harder than looking at himself in the mirror after Ben's funeral. Harder than fighting through bullet wounds or pinching a brother's artery shut or looking Sir Reginald in the eye after Diego jumped ship for police academy. Because none of them had been Allison, and she's always been the one with the closest hold on him, the one he knew and loved best. He knows you're not supposed to pick favourites in a family, but of course they all had favourites.

Allison's voice is growing louder, her hand against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. And the thing is, she's standing right in front of him and yet the specter of Sir Reginald still casts its long shadow over them both, and Luther's mind is still trapped in that loop of What is he going to think?

The others have managed to cut themselves loose, and Allison finally seems to be at that point too -- but Reginald's barbs have sunk in too deep, caught in Luther like an anchor. So he shakes his head again, jaw tight, eyes glistening though he wished they wouldn't.

"Please don't leave me," he says, his voice a low mumble.