I know. I know it does. It's okay. You'll be okay.

[She's holding him a little tightly now, but he can take it. And she can take this. He'd always been good at hiding his feelings even from himself, although once she'd learned to guess them and he'd allowed her in. He isn't hiding now, so even through all the things she's putting off feeling - outrage, disgust, sadness, probably guilt - she's happy too. Or relieved. It had been a year - it had been years - of being apart, and it's like cleaning out a wound she didn't even know she had to at least be able to offer some support, to be able to hold him again. And he'll still give her himself, she can still reach him, and all amorphous misery they've gathered apart can still be pinned down between them.]

You're a good person, Bruce. It wasn't your fault. [There's a choking quality to her voice - maybe she'll start crying again, if he doesn't. God, she hopes not. ] I'm glad you told me. I'm glad you're here. It's okay. It's okay now. [I'll take care of it. Whatever's next.]