Her breath hitches at the way he tears open that scab, and she nearly tries to dab it away, but he turns away and her heart clenches with a swoop of fear. But his hand holds to her arm. Does he...? He wants her here? For a moment she doesn't move, half hitched up on the bed to accommodate his motion, and then that soft sound breaks her heart.

The warmth and love in that dream not more than two weeks back... Hadn't he said something like that she'd made him okay? He'd been so happy to see her, and even then, he'd held back. Even then, in the safety of a situation with no consequences, he'd backed off. He didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to put anything on her shoulders. When he had come to her that horrible night, he'd been hurting so much, and hidden it so thoroughly. How much more, then, is he hurting now, to show it so plainly? And how badly does he want her to stay if he won't relinquish her arm?

Careful not to dislodge her arm from his grasp, she climbs up to sit on the very edge of the bed beside him, gently taking his forearm in both hands so that he wouldn't have to let go of her sleeve. Slowly, she starts to rub her thumbs along the muscles and tendons, massaging and soothing. She leans over him and presses her lips briefly to his shoulder, whispering, "Shhh.... I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you."