He doesn't cling to her the way he had at first, but his hand moves to find hers, holding onto it the way he had in that room as they tried to keep themselves and each other stable through the onslaught of misery.

"What do you do with it? Talking about it isn't going to make it better and confronting it head-on isn't an option, and trying to hash it out into its simplest form is what brought me here. There's no moving forward."