[ Amos doesn't reply. His fingers tighten against the back of Prax's head, and he just stays here, silent and holding the doc, letting him take his grief out in tears. That's okay. He can cry now. As long as he gets back up and doesn't give up, they will be fine. It's not like Amos doesn't understand having moments of weakness.
He's never been able to afford them himself, but he understands them all the same. The Cap had them regularly, and it didn't make him any less of a leader. Maybe it made him more of one.
Prax thanks him, and Amos doesn't know what to say to that, either. Nothing is probably for the best. And even though he's not crying anymore, Prax isn't moving, the two of them pressed close in a way that Amos is only now realizing - chest and thighs and knees and heads. He takes a deep breath, but he doesn't move away, either. ]
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He's never been able to afford them himself, but he understands them all the same. The Cap had them regularly, and it didn't make him any less of a leader. Maybe it made him more of one.
Prax thanks him, and Amos doesn't know what to say to that, either. Nothing is probably for the best. And even though he's not crying anymore, Prax isn't moving, the two of them pressed close in a way that Amos is only now realizing - chest and thighs and knees and heads. He takes a deep breath, but he doesn't move away, either. ]