[It's easier, somehow, to talk about Pidge. To not talk about anything else. Even if the words come out strained and halting. It's easier. Easier than letting an apology come falling out of his mouth.]

She's safe. She's... been with us for a while. Been here too.

[I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I hurt you.]

She's never stopped trying to find you.

[I'm sorry I found her first. I'm sorry it was me who got away, not you.]

["She". Starting every sentence. The focus of everything he can make into words. Because I is wrong. This should be Pidge standing here--] She's going to be so happy to see you.