[for a long moment, she's just silent, sorrow written on her face. understanding, absorbing - how she doesn't wish to demean anything he's telling her with the wrong thing. carefully, she reaches for one of his hands, linking it with her own, holding it in that silence until she finds words.]

...That's why you're fighting so hard. So no one will ever touch you again.

[not him, not the people he cares about, that are his. they need to be protected, somehow preserved. that's why then this can be hell.]

But...this time, you know them a little better. And you have those willing to be at your side, whatever you decide to do. Whatever it takes.

[it's brutal, it's wrong, and it makes the heart bleed. but there are still candles, little spots of brightness against the thick and heavy darkness of it all. she raises their joined hands, kisses his. a mirror of something she did a few months back, promising to stand by him, to be patient and to help him achieve his goals, his happiness. that hasn't changed.

even if he has to play this terrible, terrible game, that hasn't changed.]