[He watches her in unsettled silence, small and powerless in the way a child only can feel when a parent - a protector, a rock - falls apart in front of him. When she squeezes his hand, he covers her hand with his other. His hold is firm, afraid to let go.
He doesn't know what to say. His mouth opens wordlessly for a moment, before he remembers what she would say to him if their places were switched.] I'm...here. I'm here.
[action]
He doesn't know what to say. His mouth opens wordlessly for a moment, before he remembers what she would say to him if their places were switched.] I'm...here. I'm here.