When he breathes in, trying to bring himself back from that brink, it- shudders, like something's caught in his chest, and he grips his hand so tight that he swears something crunches beneath his white-knuckled fingers.

"It was-" he gives a soft laugh, something so small and defeated, barely more than a huff. "It wasn't even two weeks. Between getting out of the pits and meeting you."

He looks back at Charlie, finally, but his eyes are red. "I'm sorry. That this is what Lorick said would help you." With a helpless gesture at himself.