[ Jim gets it, really. He's spent the first few days trying not to cry, failing miserably most of the times, and even then he still struggles now to not let his tone slip, or his composure crumble.

So it's a good thing for the both of them that the coffee beckons Fraser's attention just then. Jim has to brush his fingers over his eyes again, swallowing thickly and gripping the armrest of his seat, and hopefully looks composed again when Fraser comes back with both their coffees. ]

Thank you.

[ He takes it, genuinely grateful, but letting it rest for now, too hot to drink just yet. It'd be too hard to swallow right now, when Fraser starts talking about La'an again. ]

I saw her grave. It's really... [ His tone falters, and he presses his lips tightly. ] It's a good spot. I could tell someone had put in the time and concern to make it nice.

[ He doesn't talk about everything else. About how unfair it all feels, that he got here just a couple of weeks too late. Would it have made a difference? Would she still be alive, were he here then? Or were they just doomed from the start, no matter where?

But worse than all that, it's that this isn't how it was supposed to go. He's the one who's supposed to not be alive; or rather, supposed to not even exist in the first place. She should be back in her world, back to her life, in a reality far more idyllic than he could begin to imagine.

Not here, in the middle of nowhere. Buried in the ground with everyone important in her life none the wiser. ]

Sorry. [ The apology is more for the pained expression on his face, a soft groan leaving him as he brushes tears from his eyes again. ] That's good, that's— I'll welcome that. Think I'm gonna need all the help I can get, down here.

[ 'Down here', as in, planetside. ]