He hadn't let go of her yet, and he pulled her close again. here he was, spilling his story, and it was affecting her and he wasn't sure what to say. "Hey," he said quietly. He began rubbing her back slightly. "We don't have to talk about this. We can talk about something else. Anything else. If you want to talk about what happened with you, though, I'll listen. I'll do what I should have done when I watched those movies and let someone else help. I'll be there for you, okay?"
He didn't know if he was saying the right thing, or if he was just making things worse. He was good at comforting people on a larger scale, of saying soothing words to thousands of crew over an intercom when he didn't have to see the fear or shock or sadness on each face. But here, alone with her, he wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. The only thing he knew was he really hated seeing her cry. It hit him in the gut and he just wanted to do whatever it took to get her to smile again. "I'm sorry I brought it up," he said quietly, pressing a kiss into her hair. "I'm really sorry."