She nods, slowly, understanding. "You can take as much time learning to stop as you need to. I still haven't learned. It's not a matter of strength, but patience."

It's a tricky line to walk with Tom. On one hand, she wants to be his comrade in hurt, able to sympathize and remind him that he's not crazy or lost or irreversibly, untouchably damaged from him time with Iniss. To show him he's not alone. That she's the same as him, that it's normal.

On the other, she wants to make him believe, and believe for herself, that they can and will get better. Slowly, maybe, but that they can.

She's been free longer than he was even a host.

She doesn't know what to say, so she rubs his back.