That touch, Tina's tap on the shoulder, fingers light and cautious, and Credence finds himself not backing away, not panicked, but instead warm. There are others that have touched him - in the village, Kira has held his hand and made him feel brave. This is like that, now, except it's Tina. Her being here, the set of her jaw, how she promises that he has nothing to be sorry for - a promise he finds himself almost believing - he exhales sharply, a strange noise as his scarred hand moves up to touch the hand touching his shoulder. He clasps his hand above hers, leaning into it, and he's unaware that he's closed his eyes until a few beats of silence on his end.

He's afraid now more than ever that they all might disappear and he'll be alone again. Tina's voice is strong even when it sounds like she's not -- no, especially when it sounds like she's not--and when Credence opens his eyes his free hand rubs at his face again, unable to keep from crying.

"Mr. Graves said you lost your job because of me," He manages. This isn't about him--it's never about him--and that doesn't matter. What matters is Tina, and Credence wants to say so much but can only say so little. He sniffles, feeling like a child, but doesn't dare move.

I've dreamed of you saving me every single day after you stood up to my mother. Thank you, is what he wants to say. What he says instead is very different.

"He's not the same one I met. He's the real one."