[As much as he tries not to, as much as he keeps his own thoughts shuttered down tight, he can't help but feel those nerves. That vibrating sense of unease and tension. Someone he trusts is suffering. Somewhere inside. Someone like family feels like a rubber band, ready to snap.]

[His grip tightens a fraction. In what he means to be reassurance.]

It's okay.

[And he means it. From the core of him, he means it. If it isn't okay now, he will make it so. By whatever means necessary. He'll let down the walls. Just enough for that to come through. Just enough to hope it passes between them. It will be okay.]

You don't have to apologize. It's a lot to process. And trying to figure out the timeline thing can wait. [Until you're ready, goes unsaid.]

[Because this is his friend. This is part of their team. Trusting him goes without saying. Whatever this is, he'll hear it when Keith is ready to say it.]

[He tries for a smile, then, something flickering and fragile and relieved. All the confusion and weirdness aside, internal selfishness aside, it's good to see him. Good to see someone from home again. If Keith doesn't protest, tense or pull away, he's... just going to hug him. Here in the hallway.]

We've really missed you.