[He can't understand her. It makes his breath catch. He remembers so clearly when he'd first tried relearning how to speak. He'd garbled everything. He'd want to shout in frustration only to be left wheezing. He'd want to cry.

Every effort to expell his pain or ease it only caused more, right down to his hunger. It'd been terrible, agonizing, and he'd questioned every day if it was really worth it, if he could really make any of this worth it. It would be for no one else's sake. No one wanted him, at least not as he is. If he was going to live, for a given definition, he had to want to. He had to find a reason to want to, even if, at first, the reason was just fearing that he'd suffered and died for nothing.]

It's almost done... You'll see her...

[He keeps holding her. He doesn't know what else to do.]

I'm sorry... I'm sorry it hurts... that I... can't save you... I don't know... how it works... I'm sorry... I hope... you can rest... I hope...