River didn't know, couldn't have known just how much better this was making Topher feel. And how much worse. It was getting to be too much, the mix of emotions he'd ignored for so long and bubbling to the surface at once, catching in his throat and making him want to gag. He was so, so glad that these ... blue handed people, weren't like him. It had all sounded so much like his work, like River was just another broken doll, cast aside after she started glitching. Topher didn't like facing the repercussions of his actions. He wasn't sure he could handle it. For all that he pretended to be completely amoral, he did care about that sort of thing. Sort of. "Crowded," he murmured, more to himself than to River. He knew he was being unusually quiet, but he just didn't know what to say. He wanted to babble, to talk just to hear himself fill the space, but the words wouldn't come.
Good. He laughed at that, dark and more than a little crazy. When was the last time anyone had called him that. Not even as a kid. He bit his lip, rubbing anxiously at his face. "You can't hurt people with your brain, River," he argued softly, but he knew this wasn't true, no matter how much he hoped it was. He looked away quickly, but his body belied his true thoughts. He felt so guilty, and he didn't even know why. It was alien.
"Right, right." He agreed with her then, and it felt like the weight of ten thousand men was lifted off his shoulders. "Together. That's something."