They don't really hear his words, too soft to be noticed past their own screaming filling their skull. But the sentiment echoes down the link and they latch onto it like a lifeline, clutching onto that feeling just as tightly as they hold themself.

The painful knot in their chest only seems to tighten more and more the longer their fit goes on. All the frustration, pain, and confusion they shoved down boils to the surface, shatters, turns into something that feels like they want to tear everything apart, scream at the world for everything they carried for so long. They scream and scream and scream for what feels like an eternity...until it starts to peter off.

Almost as suddenly as they'd begun Chip quiets into soft wheezes and sniffles, limp and drained and dirty. Their vision is still blurry from tears, but they don't need to see Tim to know he's still there. They should...say something, probably. Apologize, or try to undo this, or...something.

But they don't.