A dry sob cultivated into the crook of Eridan's neck. Shadows stuck to his skin, even as he heard Eridan's humming. He knew, some part of him understood, that Eridan was just trying to calm him. To soothe him. He swallowed the second squirm of sounds coming from his mouth.

Eridan was here. That was communicated sharply enough.

Shivering now, Eddie fought to keep his composure. He heard his own screams from months past, haunting his ears. His lips quivered.

"They never had to do that," he said. Quietly. "There were other ways, but they -- he -- they delighted in it. Because of what I was to them."

Edward, it was clear spoke more about an individual than a collective. The tiles of his floor were like blank windows as he stared at them, watching a void and a universe unfold.