He'd seen that she was crying, but Joey was too upset at seeing his death from the outside to immediately offer comfort. When his memory melted into a new one of hers, there still seemed nothing to say to the girl who cried red tears. She had shared her death too. They both knew what it was like.

That didn't mean he could leave her feelings unrecognized. Joe gave her arm a careful pat, erring on the side of caution as yet another violent memory unfolded around them. Not that he was afraid of being attacked, but Joey suspected that these were all raw memories. Sore spots. He knew a lot of people that wouldn't want a hug right now.

"Is that your old boyfriend," he signed. They were supposed to be acting like a couple, after all, so questions about blood tears and coffins weren't a good idea. Yet he felt like they should interact over the memories, in case the sharing was being studied. "Oh, you've been to Rio, too? They have a beautiful culture..."

But he has monsters on the brain, and the memory that follows hers is a six foot high praying mantis with a middle-aged woman's face. Joe recoils, both physically and mentally from it, and the creature dissolves into an image of Joey and his friend Kole, whose face looks like a younger version of the bug woman, falling asleep sitting up. Somehow, this is the worst option, and he hugs himself for a moment, before letting go to sign. "I have happier memories than this. I promise."