"I'm not treating it that way," Neal says. The softness fades, but he doesn't raise his voice. "I'm treating my pain like it matters at all, which is a first for me. My brother died because someone else's pain drove them to act alone. He's not bothered. I am. That's still true. It's as true as the fact that what I did was unacceptable, that I made you suffer, that I made Jedao suffer, and that the fallout of my choices will persist even if I'm not here to see the damage. That is a reality I'm aware of, that I can't be unaware of, and that I am sorry for."

He looks at Hakkai, and stops himself from saying anything else immediately. Stops himself from indulging that small flame of irritation that briefly climbs from his gut to his chest before he stamps it out.

There's so much that feels like it's starting to make sense for the first time. About himself, about Hakkai, even about Jedao. About this ship. About the people on it.

"Your pain, the fact that I caused it, is important to me. My pain is also important to me, as is the fact that Jedao caused it, even if his pain is also what caused that. There's no relative value scale here. No... elevation of one life's tragedies over another. I'm here because what I did was wrong and I know it, and if you needed to hurt me, I was going to let you, if I couldn't talk you down."