"Oh," Bariyan said, weakly, as Martin reached for him. He recoiled a bit -- mostly out of surprise -- but not enough to avoid the grip entirely. And he stayed, when he felt those fingers close around his arm. But he did not do anything when Martin drew away afterwards.

It was strange, listening to Martin, hearing the obvious adoration in the boy's voice... adoration for another man with Bariyan's name, Bariyan's face, Bariyan's character. Strange. Strange to see how obviously loved this Bariyan was. But here was Bariyan now, lost, confused, distant, feeling rather like a uninvited stranger.

This wasn't his life. This wasn't his place.

But nevertheless, he was here.

"You don't owe me anything," Bariyan said, gently. He picked up walking again, at a slower pace, looking up to the dome above them as he went. He laughed. "Please don't worry about me. I'm just glad that I-- or, someone like me-- I'm just glad that your life is good now."

He raised a hand to rub at the left side of his neck. "Everyone deserves to be happy. We've all only one life to be happy in, after all."