Even with his lap vacated and the memory ending, the world around him having disappeared, Nick remains on the ground for a moment more. It's been weeks since this all started, weeks since he saw Rey, heard her voice. He's been living with her as family for over a year now, and in that span has really come to appreciate those times where they could spend the evenings in the den, just enjoying each other's company. Sometimes, he'd talk while working on reports, tell her tales of cases long-solved and a wasteland he may never see again. Other nights, she'd nap on the couch with Tripod, as if, for a little while, there wasn't a care in the world.

He wonders now, as he looks to his empty hands, if he took those times for granted. He can try all he likes, but if she doesn't come back, he'll eventually forget, won't he? He'll forget those good times, struggle to recall how the tone of Rey's voice, fail to remember her face and the impact she's had on him. All those memories of the Commonwealth, of Hadriel, and of Rey -- gone, erased by outdated hardware.

Just like his brother.

Nick gets to his feet, his eyes still fixed on where Rey was lying, as though it all might fade the moment he pulls them away. That's not how it works, but... it's a heavy weigh in his gut all the same.

"Is she gonna be okay?"

One thing at a time, and for now, her safe return is all he wants.