[He tenses up at first at the touch, screwing his eyes shut. The contact and the words slowly melt away at his resolve. And... if he's honest, he's not up for any fights. Not today. Perhaps not for a long while. He's tired. The events back home all too fresh in his mind and muddling his concentration. He was so much better with her.]
[And even as he reminds himself that Jamie has the opposite affect that Watson has had in his life, one hand reaches to brush her own, back still to her. His voice wavers a bit in defeat.]
... Part of me dares to hope... that you are capable of change. That perhaps this transition I went through can occur within you as well. [Slowly turns to look at her.] But what good is it, truly? When no matter how much one attempts to be better... they only end up loosing those who mean the most to them?