[ He understands precisely. They can't save the trees and forget about the forest -- the balance has to be so, so careful; they've gotten it wrong before and they'll probably get it wrong again -- but they won't take the mental shortcut of sacrificing one for many.

Over the past week, Harold had wondered at times if he was being too dramatic in his grief. He's lost people before and he'd found his way again, however excruciating it was. But hearing John say this, he knows he was right, that living without him would be an unbearable loss. A huge release of tension goes through him, like the moment he walks in the door to his favorite safehouse.

There's water standing in his eyes, and he knows John won't understand it, will think he's hurt him again somehow. He has to say something. ]

You are such a good man, [ he tells him painfully, thinking of when he tried to convince the malfunctioning Machine that they weren't monsters. ] Before I found you, I'd lost my way. I don't think I ever told you that. I came very close to doing dark things.

When I'm with you, John, I'm a better person.