[ She sinks into the embrace heavily, clings onto him a little too tightly. She doesn't dare shut her eyes, the images of what the Omni had shown her feel seared into her mind's eyes. What she's seen has horrified her in such a singular, painful way. To see him ruthlessly haunted, and hurt.

Now she thinks she knows why he felt so horrible. Why he'd been so upset when she'd come back from the dead, when John had brought her to his home; weak and shaky with illness, but even if the injuries that killed her had been healed, there was nothing done about the mess of bruises and swollen skin about her face. She'd managed to fix the break once she'd woken up again, but the damage had been done. She couldn't do anything to help it. She'd had the same thing done to her as he had to him.

There's a thick swallow, trying to work through words. It takes her a long time to speak, to bring herself to explain it — her voice hushed, trying to find comfort as his fingers find her hair. ]

... I think it was a memory. [ There's a short exhale, a tiny shake of her head. ] I saw you, in a classroom. But it wasn't Deerington. I think it was your school from home.

[ She's seen snatches of his home world before; in the form of his family in various ways, in the memory within his home when his mother performed some kind of ceremony to speak with Charlie. But not this. ]

I saw what he did to you— what Paimon did to you. [ He won't wake, even if she speaks his name. He's obeyed her command to leave them, to let them speak in private. Perhaps for the best, as tears well in her eyes and she makes a small soft sound of upset. Some upset at Paimon, but most of it for Peter. ]

I didn't realise he'd done it. That he broke your nose.