"I'm not scared," Oliver shook his head, smiling at the laughter and figuring that Marco would explain if he wanted to. "It's okay to be, though, and you'll feel better the more you get used to it. It doesn't have to happen all at once." He leaned back in the computer chair, uncapping his water bottle again, but keeping his gaze fixed on Marco. "Is there anythin' I can do for you that might help? You can borrow one of my shirts or bring one of the tin soldiers in with you." He gestured across to the dresser where all of the soldiers stood lined up, no longer poised for battle, but intermingled like old war buddies. "Or two, so the one won't get lonely."