[ He doesn't know what to say to that, so he busies himself with the breakfast instead. The plates are already out, all he has to do is scrape half the eggs on each plate and pull the bacon and pancakes from where they're warm in the oven.

He doesn't know what to say. ]

I can't take that back. And I don't know how to comfort you. I'm sorry, for that. I hope you have friends who can. Who did.

[ John wishes he knew how. He wishes he knew the right thing to say. He wishes he could ease Harold's pain, not just so that they could return to how things were, but because he doesn't like to think about Harold hurting. He hopes people like Maria were able to help Harold the way she helped him.

But he doesn't apologize for dying because not matter how much it hurt Harold, no matter how much it hurts himself, he wouldn't do anything differently. Even knowing the path they're on, even if Harold walks away forever, he'll still be alive back home. The one life that really matters. It's just, he didn't think there would be anything after for him. He didn't think it would matter. He didn't have time to think about how Harold would feel about it, or maybe he did and it didn't occur to him; he was just so focused on Harold living to really think about what that life would be like. And now he's faced with his own uncertainty and realizes he created a scenario where that was always going to be the outcome for Harold, both in Etraya and back home. ]

I don't think I understand what it means to you. Will you tell me?

[ It feels like a lot to ask of Harold, but he wants to know. If they're actually having this conversation he wants to understand. ]