More laughter, she'd kinda hoped for a different response. Kinda sort of wished that... being enough for her would be enough for them, to comfort them, just a bit. It's a foolish wish though, she knows, selfish even - after all that was said earlier, all that she's just found out about them, there probably won't be any comfort, not for a while at least. The best she can hope to do here is to listen, and to not leave their side for anything.

At least they don't seem ready to bolt anymore. It's the exhaustion, for sure, but maybe it's-- maybe they want to talk, too. They release their grasp on her with deliberate slowness and she pulls back a little in turn, just enough to see them properly, resting her hands lightly on their legs.

She listens patiently to their explanation, keeping her own horror at it well in check. Two, small details, a world where they never existed, better off? Just, no. Nope! That's sure as hell not true here, and it probably wasn't back then either. She's seen a little of their relationship with that fire girl in that world, and she'd bet she wasn't the only one whose-- whose memories these kids took. They made that decision for everyone who ever knew them because, because of course they did, set out to fix their own perceived mistakes without giving anyone a chance to object.

They, too, reaped the consequences of that decision.

"There's people here who don't remember you?" Her voice is quiet, strained with her grief for them. If there's one thing worse than knowing you're forgotten, it's-- seeing no recognition in someone you love.