[ It comes at the point when he needs the anchor most (and where Jemma always reaches out — the place she grabbed onto the first time they touched after the Framework), and he leans into it. Wouldn't pull away, even if he wanted to, when it's Markus closing the gap. His eyes scrunch closed, stoppering whatever emotion might eke out of them just in time.

A series of short nods then, as much to himself as a signifier of listening and actually hearing Markus. It's a disservice to his friends to think they wouldn't stand with him, even on this shaky ground. His gaze flickers to Markus, checking for something, then back to the sheets. ]

Maybe. [ his mouth opens to say more, but he closes it again. then, ] Yeah. I think being in the Framework jumbled everything. [ unsurprising, but more pressing: ] And it feels like a, like a, [ one of his glitches, as he searches for the word. ] like a power struggle between that person, the one I was before — and the one I was in there. [ his shoulders lift, helpless. ] Either way, I lose.

[ breaking news fighting yourself at every turn is a bad coping strategy ]