Well that was... fucking heavy. Ford wasn't able to say anything for a long moment after Ty finished. Ford had been skeptical about Tycho's visions earlier in their friendship, but that skepticism had evaporated after Verity's kidnapping. He had no doubt at all that Tycho really had seen his father die, and that wasn't something he would wish on anyone.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, and for a moment he only said that. He shifted in his chair and accidentally spilled a tiny bit of cocoa onto his leg. It didn't burn; it was only lukewarm now. "I have some experience with... complicated feelings about your father. So I get it," he eventually added. He shifted again and smiled a bit sadly at his lap. "Sometimes I think my mother blames me, too. Not for my father dying but for the predicament we're in now."

Ford looked over at Tycho. "When I said I kept forgetting you were in mourning I didn't mean that I didn't think you cared about him. I meant — it's hard to explain," he said with another small sigh. He wrapped his hands around his cooca cup and tried again. "It's like if — if normal people are like gaslights and when they're in mourning you dim them. But you're like a star," he said in something of a rush — he didn't know if this was making any sense at all. "You don't get dim. The stars always burn the same way no matter what the night's like around them."

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