Realistically, Miles couldn't expect a no to that question, unless it was accompanied by a truly ludicrous story, though that wouldn't be out of line, considering his life -- funny you should ask, I had a nasty accident with some glass... -- but the look on his other self's face is so...haunted. Dying's no treat, he would know, but it hadn't left him like that. Had his older self died just as painfully? God, this is going to require a drink. Several drinks.

But beyond the immediate reaction of his other self, it's an answer to a question that's been plaguing him for months, nearly a year, and it isn't as nearly as much of a relief as he thought it might be. He doesn't know what he expected. With an agonized groan, Miles falls back onto the snow like a limp puppet, looking exhausted.

"Again?" He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will away the image of his future self he'd seen on Caducus Primary, except that man's right beside him now. "I knew it. Shit."