It was unusual for Nicanor to be so openly affectionate, especially with another man, but Linc looked close to death and he was just so relieved to see him still standing. Breaking the hug, Nic took a step back, running both hands through his hair. "I thought it was you. What had happened, where everyone went, I thought... I mean it could have been you. And I thought about that, and I was so angry, but then when you were gone, and they said you were with the others... and what had happened..." He sighed, pulling another cigarette from the pack, his last. "A part of me was thinking you deserved it. That you had made others feel this way, and now you were there and it was supposed to be this way. But that made me feel more terrible because of course you didn't deserve it, because no person deserves that."
Lighting up, Nic's hands were shaking slightly as he took a drag, inhaling the nicotine deep into his lungs. "Waiting for you, I couldn't think of how to feel, or what to do when I saw you. But seeing you... and you look very terrible," he added with a small smile, "I thought that... I was just glad that my friend is alive. That is what mattered most."