[He may not see Art's eyes clearly, not in this darkness that creeps around them, but the pause, the touch of his hand-- they tell him more than enough. Quietly, he lets out the breath he didn't even notice he was holding, his hand twisting slightly so his fingers can brush against Art's palm, in return.
If this was any other moment, there might be a laugh hidden in his words, a smile in his tone-- but now, there is nothing but raw honesty, wrapped in something like wry self-awareness that he would have refused himself, not too long ago.]
Course I would. There... ain't much I wouldn't do, if it's about you an' what happens when you go back. [He exhales, his gaze never wavering, never looking away from Art.]
I don't care what the reason is, as long as you... [As long as you'll be alive, back there. He knows it's something a soldier should never do, to place someone's life above others', but-- with Art, it was always going to be a lost cause. Even if it meant countless people he doesn't know dying-- he would still choose for the one next to him now to go on living, whatever the cost.]