He hadn't thought about it. He has no excuse, no reason not to have connected the dots beyond foolishness and hope. Already looking unhappy, his face still manages to fall.

"The rest of you can't connect enough to make up for me," he says, tone dull with the revelation. "It has to be me." No collective pool to dip into.

He looks to the space between them, expression closing off again. There's nothing. With her or anybody. He should have known.

"No short cuts then. I'll have to find a way myself," he mutters. And then he scrubs at his face with a hand, letting it run back through his hair.