[ For as much as Amos is starting to settle back into the real world — at least for the time being — what should be Abel's clear joy is lost on him. He hardly notices the other man at all as he eats; the surprise at his question doesn't register.

When he starts talking, though — and doesn't stop — Amos' eyebrows raise, bit by bit. His bafflement is so plainly human, he's almost fully back in the moment the longer Abel goes on. His eyes fall to Abel's hand when he holds it out, notes the tremble where he remains perfectly still; meets Abel's gaze again when he asks for his company.

His initial silence isn't a refusal, nor is it even a retreat back into his own mind. It's taking the time to make sure he heard Abel correctly.

When he speaks, his voice is steady, but almost gentle, too. ]

If anyone's gonna be a disappointment, it's probably me. [ There's no self-deprecation in his voice. He'd picked up on Abel's, eventually; Amos is plain-spoken. Though it's not like there's any judgment in his voice, either. Whatever Abel's deal is, it's cool by him. ] But yeah, sure. You don't gotta bring me food or anything to sit here.

[ He pauses, about to have said you can sit wherever you want, but that's not exactly true, is it? Where they choose to be isn't exactly up to any of them anymore. And if Abel is a good guy, and he's terrified—

Amos isn't terrified. He isn't anything. (He's traumatized, but why acknowledge that if you don't have to?) But he's present enough to recognize that Abel being terrified bothers him, so his voice, while still soft in tone, turns serious. ]

Did they hurt you?

[ He's probably still visibly bruised, but his own health is back of mind now. ]