John grabbed the second glass and poured a small measure into it for Genevieve, placing it in front of her, but not directly. It was there if she wanted it. Not forcefully. It was his way of showing sympathy. His way of showing he understood. Of course he did. His entire life had been a disaster, just as much as hers had. Both their lives were woven from tragedy and in a way perhaps it had somehow brought them together. Even if John found it hard to open up.
"Same as always" he replied. Time to try opening up. "It was Derry. Everything that happened. I've seen things just as bad if not worse in some ways but that'll live with me for a very long time" he said, refilling his own glass. "That town's left it's mark on this station. We all did what we could and we beat that bastard clown" he said, raising his glass, trying to smile.