[Ben accepts his communicator back, shuts it off, drops it in his pocket. Once upon a time, he would have buckled under the weight of those three words. She trusts him. She shouldn't, he would have thought, and maybe she still shouldn't. But he is capable, now, of being trustworthy. If he is trusted in the right ways, he is sound.

It's a strange concept. No less precious, for being more possible now than before, but still strange. Ben pushes smoothly to his feet, tilting his head when he looks back at Abigail.]

The ledge will hold. Or it will not. Sometimes others are not wiser than we are ourselves, for all their context and their experience.

But anger and fear are appropriate. Thank you for trusting me. I will do my best to be worthy of it.