[He barks out a noise that might have supposed to have been a laugh, and under different circumstances, he might have tried to project his counter argument, but right now, his control is sloppy, focused so hard on just projecting that he's here, he's here, you're not alone, that anything else feels too difficult, and so instead he struggles to find words, his voice muffled against Erik's shoulder and thick with tears, but still somehow almost normal sounding, something almost like black humor being forced in with the grated out syllables.] Erik, I'm- [He's still crying a little, even though he's wrestled his voice into something intelligible, and he has to stop to take sharp gasps of breath before he can get the words out at all.] Crying hysterically into your shirt and- [And another short breath.] Have been for quite some time. I'm fairly certain I'm not all right.

[He still doesn't pull away, and in fact actually burrows closer with something that's somewhere between a sniffle and a whimper, too miserable to be embarrassed as he holds on to Erik tightly. They're leaning on each other, and that's okay. That's how it should be. And that he does manage to project along with the rest of it.]