Seeing her bayard makes the whole world snap. He just detaches, like he's watching it all from outside his own body.

He remembers feeling this way only once before, during the time everything had hurt the most, when the whole world was yellow. There were a few moments where he'd just disconnected and floated up like he was looking down on himself from above.

That hasn't happened again since then. Until now.

He gets too close, comes up right near Wash, just a step behind him, feeling like he's moving through water. And despite Wash's words, Dipper's eyes go to the ground as he sees something else, something that was left there, abandoned, like her bayard, glittering in the light.

The lenses are cracked.

Seeing her glasses has about the same effect as a punch to the solar plexus. He drops to one knee, without even realizing he's done it, and stops breathing, as he delicately picks up the wire frame and holds it between his fingers.

The blue light extended protectively around Wash and himself suddenly dims, and even though Wash is still technically standing in front of him, he's still down on one knee, completely exposed.

Gutted.