[She almost starts to panic when she can't find his hand immediately; his pant leg is reassuring, kind of, but it could be his sleeping back, and feeling around blindly would be a bad idea. So she breathes a gentle sigh of relief when he takes her hand again, closing her eyes and just focusing on the feeling of his hand against hers now that she's taken her gloves off. It's more comforting this way, warmer and more alive.

But still quiet.]

I was wrong, you know, [she murmurs aloud, though she knows he can't hear her. She can't even hear herself, not really.] It's not Satie's Gymnopédies. It's his Trois Gnossiennes. I'll play it for you after we get back to the base... it's a melancholic, haunting melody, the kind that makes your soul feel heavier when you listen to it. But it's not all bad! There are pieces of the music, parts of it that feel more uplifting, almost surprisingly so! Even if it's just for a few seconds, it's like... a reminder. That even if things seem dark, as long as you have something to hang onto, it can keep you going.

[That's what all her friends at the Bureau are to her, anyway. After everything that happened at home, being able to make new friends, even friends who know what she did and still want to be her friends, is more powerful than any darkness.

She'll have to tell him, when they can hear again. For now, she just shifts a little closer, her grip on his hand tightening a little more as she leans in and rests her ear against his shoulder.]