[There's something about the way she says it that makes it sound like she's trying to talk him off the proverbial ledge, and he just frowns at the water as he listens to her. Her hand meets the sleeve of his jumpsuit, warmed by the sun.]

It all kind of sprung up because I couldn't just...keep it to myself. I know that Crichton having something going on isn't my fault, and Gil going to confront him wasn't, but it comes back to the whole problem that if I had just kept it all to myself to figure out alone, then maybe they wouldn't have got in the fight that killed them. Harvey would have had no reason to be hostile to him. I wouldn't have had to explain anything to Gil. He wouldn't have hurt Crichton. Maybe they would have run into each other one way or another but that's not what happened.

[He's tired, that much is clear by the way he keeps himself quiet amid the gentle ambient sloshing of the water. He doesn't have the emotional breaking or raspiness that might come from someone verging on tears, but that's just a function of his physiology. It doesn't change that he's clearly not doing well.]