[ Too late do they realise how dismissive they sounded, instead of simply uncomfortable. Too lost inside their own head, too distracted - aren't they're meant to be good at this? Words and diplomacy and soothing hurts, things they've been training their whole life to do, all in the name of managing their family, and here they are, fucking it up. Again. ]

No, no, it's-

[ A frustrated sigh, because- because they know far too well what it feels like to be on the other side of this. ]

It's... I mean, that's- [ Stop, start, stop and start again. ] I didn't think I was allowed to.

[ ... oh.

The present is left alone. Even if it hurts, even if they'd rather run from this, they can't focus on both at once, and this is too important to leave to chance again. ]

I- I mean, what would it sound like, if I brought up my life before? It's already bad enough that I'm one of the few who isn't alone here, and that someone else from my family was rescued, even if he doesn't remember me. [ Wait, what? ] But to just- to whine about everything else I've lost, on top of that?

[ They can't help it. The longer they ramble on, the shakier their voice gets, with a brittle, exhausted laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep in their chest at the final question. It's guilt, they know it's guilt, but that doesn't mean they can wish it away. No matter how much they want to.

They tear their gaze away from the table, finally looking across at Alex, uncertainty writ plain across their face. ]

How does that- how am I not an awful person for doing that?