For a moment, Cole feels a chill, right in the pit of his stomach. "Real," he echoes, wistfully. He isn't sure anyone else has really understood what it is to not be sure if you're real or not, the uncertainty, the unknown.

Wide blue eyes stare down at the offered hand, and he lifts his from his side, gingerly...then, with the lightest, gentlest touch, he takes it, almost looking like he might cry.

When was the last time anyone touched him willingly that wasn't on the battlefield?

"Maybe we can help each other."