Noah nods, stiffly, looking away. He tries to think of something, anything to say, but as always the right words feel just beyond his reach. Maybe there are no right words for this, though. He's not sure how doctors can do it, day in and day out, tell people that they're going to die.

Noah has to wonder if he would have liked to know his own time was limited. Is it better to see it coming or not?

"You're welcome, I guess." It's seems like an awful thing to say about delivering bad news, but it's one less secret they need to worry about. "...I can give you some time, if you need. You know, uh, alone time. To - think or whatever."

He's going to be in so much trouble for this.