If Roland had tried to tell him that everything was going to be okay Signless might have actually hit him. He doesn't have time for empty words and he's glad Roland doesn't either, glad that out of all of the humans he could have fallen into a quadrant with he's managed to find one with some practicality.

He turns into the hug and slips his arms around Roland's shoulders, holding him like he's afraid he might disappear -- and who could blame him? This keeps happening. Everyone he's loved has been taken from him eventually in one way or another here.

"Thank you," he says, voice harsh and strained in the way voices often are when the speaker is trying to talk through tears. More than 'thank you for the comfort' he means 'thank you for still being here, for being alive and relatively safe'. He lets himself cry because it's easier than talking, because he knows Roland won't mind, not even when the red of his tears makes unsightly splotches on the fabric of his shirt.

"I couldn't be alone with that kind of anger," he says once the sobs have died off into quiet sniffles and hiccups. "I would have burnt myself up. I have that inside of me all the time, Roland, and I hold it back because there are still things in this world worth caring about and hoping for. That's why I needed you. I needed to be reminded of that."