Oh god, Much did need help, didn’t he? Much needed more help than he’d needed since... that night with the Sheriff, on the side of the road, in the woods, maybe. But unless she had the power to undo time or, like, his personality, his choices, his failings - then there wasn’t anything she could do.
“Thanks...” Much said, as his gaze was dragged back down to the floor of the train, and the black streaks from someone’s shoe. He was aware it was taking each word a long time to come out, and his arm was feeling a little tingly, from leaning heavily against the side of the train. “That’s… kind… But no, no.”