Vasquez pries himself out of bed and lopes to where he can find the nearest piece of clothing, opting for the scrubs top of Faraday's that he can pry (since Faraday wears his linen shirt now), and tugs it on, along with his own pair of jeans from the harvest party from the other room.

When he returns, he's scratching at his hair (tangled and wild, still with sticks in it), staring at Faraday as he leans his whole body against the doorway. It hurts so badly to think that if Faraday goes, he dies, because it's something he's thought of since he arrived.

"Lots of people did. Some people think we're copies," he says. "Some think it's afterlife. I don't care," he says bluntly, "because you're here. That's all I want."