"That's more than for most people," Squalo explains grumpily, though it's probably obvious enough. He would let most of the world burn; Héctor had managed to become different to most of the world.

He still doesn't have the answer, not really, how he's supposed to deal with this and what he's supposed to do. But he does feel better, marginally, and there's some glimmer of hope that he can figure it out.

He reaches out to return the gesture -- rest a hand on the other man's shoulder, in a bit of a reassuring slap, as he's hardly ever actually gentle. "Thank you," he says, unsure what else he could possibly voice right now. It's rare. Cherish it. "For -- being there."

He seems to always be there to pick up the pieces. At least this time, Squalo seems to know better than to actually break into them again.