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Pale eyes turned up to watch him shuffling. Awkward, on top of everything else. Awkward, because she didn't want to break down in front of him. Awkward, because she didn't know how to take the comfort he had tried to give her earlier.

"This isn't your fault," she assured him, getting to her feet again.

<Tell him.>

He doesn't need to think of him that way.

<It's not your place to decide that.>

"Alright." A glance towards the runic carrier, then she was crossing the small kitchenette towards the door so she could open it for him. "If you need anything..." Because she was in a great state to provide emotional support right now.

<It's Taym's fault,> Warrick chimed in softly, coldly. Peyton could feel him bristling as the thought settled, and she nudged him away, because he wasn't wrong, and she couldn't argue with him, no matter how much she wanted to.

The brief hug was returned. She really did appreciate him, not just for his strength in carrying this out, but as a friend. If she wasn't so stubborn she'd probably even take him up on that offer, but she mourned in solitude, burying it away, hanging onto the numbness as long as she could.

"Thanks Bix." Her hand found the edge of the door, and she leaned against it as he made his way out. "I'm sorry." For so many things.