Isabella turns away and bites her lip. "And they didn't know you understood their language, so you thought you'd know if they were deceiving you."

"Yeah."

"And meanwhile I understood nothing that was happening to me at all, not where you were, not whether he would kill me by accident or deliberately, not what they said, not that I could have shouted at any moment and you would have appeared and we would have been on our way - I dropped into suppression more because I cannot tolerate confusion than because I cannot tolerate pain or fear, but of course it's not a matter of picking and choosing, they are all either on or off, I could not leave the emotions that would have prompted informative shouting intact while I dealt with not knowing and having no way to find out."

Now she's crying, a little.

Well, so is he.

Nothing is likely to interrupt them in their crying for some time.

Can they snuggle while they cry? That would help at least one of them.

Isabella will allow it. Perhaps she will cry on his shoulder.

That... also helps, actually.

Isabella would only be able to tell if he told her. Or if she were mid-telepathy with him, which she is not.

But not from the part where he hugs her tightly and pets her hair and cries some more?

He can tell that the hugging helps. It's good that the hugging helps. It helps him that the hugging helps. He'd say something to that effect, but - talking while crying is hard. So he just hugs her some more.

Helpful hugs. Necessary crying.

Yes. Both of those.

"You were okay?" she asks softly, after her tears have largely subsided. "I didn't know if you were okay. Was it all right - or - are you only crying over me -"

"...It's complicated," he murmurs.

Squeeze.

He cuddles up and relaxes in her arms.

Snuggles.

"I was so afraid for you," she murmurs.