[ He raised his hand, the dark gunmetal ring that usually sat there - even here on Reverie, as his only personal possession that had come with him - was gone. ]

Only one way that was ever gonna go, Amos. [ It was why it'd taken him so long to reach out. If he'd done it earlier, maybe Talissa would have played along a little while longer, but. There was a reason bed thought it would be better, for him to be dead. To have died a hero.

You don't speak ill of the dead.

He lowered his hand again, trying to keep from fidgeting with something that isn't there.

The depth in Amos' gaze wrenched in his chest and he felt immensely guilty, suddenly, for thinking even for a second that the man didn't care about him. ]

I ain't got a death wish, Amos. If I'm in trouble - real trouble - I'll let you know. If I can't handle it, I'll tell you. [ But that wasn't quite enough and he shifted his weight, fidgeting. ]

And I'll do the opposite, too. I won't let you get surprised, again. I shouldn't've in the first place. But if you've got all the info, you don't have to worry as much about making that call, right? If I tell you when I'm alright, then it'll be easier to know when I'm not.