If anything, moments of helplessness only validate Wing's efforts. Without others to help, people to care for, he's not sure what he'd do with himself.

He presses a kiss into her hair before she slips her arms around his neck, tucking his audial flares so as not to catch her with them. "I'm happy to, you know that."

Warm fingers spread through her hair and a solid palm presses against her back. "You don't have to be." Sorry, that is. The crying part, she can do if she wishes. Better out than in, in truth.