[ He's crying, he thinks - but it's not sobs, and it's almost not something he can stop. It's nothing dramatic, either. In fact, it's almost relieved. His shoulders tremble every so often, and his breath is a little shaky and wet, but... he's okay. It feels better to feel it.

To let it drain out, and not stuff it down. Quietly: ]

I'm glad you weren't there the first time. [ With the torture. ] I can't - tell you how glad. I - mar's sake, I'm scared, I -- I forgot.