Worthless. Cursed. A plague. Tears sting his eyes again, and he doesn't even get embarrassed about them.

"Ren," he says, almost, almost laughing, "what else do you imagine I have to do that's more important than this?" His hand comes to rest, finally, on Ren's shoulder. "Come back with me, then. We'll get you through the night. We can still take that bath, if you want. And then, tomorrow, we can talk about what you want to do.

"If that's okay with you," he adds. It's not like he, of all people, doesn't know how hard it is to ask for help.