The waiting had been interminable, eating away at her, gnawing until she didn't know if she could stand it. More than once, she'd started to rise, to head for the door, to try and find them and intervene, to see if she could talk sense into one or both of them, but fear and uncertainty kept her in the seat she'd chosen, frozen with the knowledge of what she'd done.

When Samuel burst back in, she was compelled up in reaction, but she couldn't move after, not for a moment or two, watching him crumple in on himself. She didn't need to touch him to read the emotion flying off of him, across the room, filling it, circling around. Whatever had happened, whatever had been said, she hadn't been wrong.

Compassion moved her where fear would have confined her, and she finally made it the few steps to his side, sinking down to the floor beside him, hands moving to cradle his face, pulling his trembling into herself.

"Samuel...?"