Nico let him lead her without protest, curled in on herself like a dead pill bug. She stood there, crying silently, while he selected blankets and steered her to sit down against the wall, wrapped up in his arms. His words washed over her when he spoke and they passed over her ears like water. There was no urgency to them, no warning, so she let them be soothing without making an effort to assign them further meaning.

When he kissed her cheeks though, she turned her face away, closing her eyes -- if he didn't want her to kiss him, she didn't want his pity kisses.

She just...while she had the chance, she was just going to trust that she could sit here and cry and that he'd deal with anyone or anything that tried to bother them. That they were far enough away from the stupid people of this world that she didn't have to keep up a front. She might be too weak to push him away like she should, but she just couldn't dredge up the effort to fight him enough to prove that she was strong.

And maybe if she cried long enough, she could stop caring. About anything.