There was a temptation to melt into an embrace the moment Tycho's lips touched his skin, and holding himself up straight took practically all his willpower. The affirmation of love was too much — or would have been, without the caveat that this was only half his Tycho. He didn't remember it. There was no substance behind the declaration, only the echo of what had been there before. So he didn't surrender his reservations and throw himself into Tycho's arms... but the fact that the echo that remained was of the love and not the pain still had the corners of his eyes welling with grateful tears.

"I love you, too," he mumbled. "I promise. Even if — even though —" Here he fell apart. He hadn't rehearsed this, sure that Tycho would never again give him an audience long enough to make excuses, much less offer explanations. He didn't have any way of explaining away the hurt he'd caused, either. He could say he'd never meant to, but while that was true he wasn't sure that it mattered. Any explanation of the actual sequence of events that had lead them here like the one he'd given Jemima in December wasn't going to make him come across as particularly lovable.

Maybe it didn't matter. Tycho had forgotten once; maybe he'd forget this entire interaction tomorrow, if they didn't figure out what was happening first. Ford sniffled to keep the tears welled in his eyes from falling and pulled back, extricating himself from Tycho. "Let's get your memory back."

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