[He listens, without interrupting her. He wants to reach out and hold her, but he'll wait and see if she wants to come to him. It makes him think of the yawning void that had opened up beneath him, the overwhelming desolation when he saw Lucy at his feet - by his own hand.]

...I know. What it's like, to feel like everything good in your world is gone forever. It's not even pain, it's emptiness that sucks in everything around it. It's like part of you is dead and rotting, and no one really sees it.

I lost my wife three times. My daughter three times, although I didn't recognize her the last. And I didn't survive it. In fact, I welcomed the boy who- ...killed me, because in every meaningful way I was already dead. I had lived for months thinking that humanity itself was a plague to be wiped out, myself included.

And then, when I finally got what I wanted, I woke up here. And I met all of you. And I remembered what it was like to feel love, and hope, and happiness, only to remember what it felt like to lose it again, here and in my lost memories at the same time.

I honestly might not have survived last week, or the week before, without your father. But Farrah... I wouldn't have survived Sunday without you.

You're not alone. Just please, promise me you won't do something that foolish again.