Splicer held her close, one hand embracing her against him, the other rubbing her back comfortingly. He had always been used to the cold reality of war, of loss, of things that weren't hopeful or held any future, and still it always hurt when he saw or felt someone dear to him feel that way.

He leaned his head down and kissed the top of her head before letting her rest against him. She'd be tired, sadness was tiring... Always had been.