Tuo's right, of course -- the people rescued, and their families, and their friends. Dain may be something of an idealistic masochist, but even he wouldn't have continued on this path if he didn't see real worth in it.

Still. It never feels like enough.

Then his own words are returned, and they make the situation real, and Dain couldn't prevent the tears falling if he wanted to. He's not even sure what he's weeping for. Family, childhood, unfulfilled promises of a life that never happened, the loneliness Tuo must have lived with, the knowledge that he can't simply come back here each evening and spend his time healing some of that pain. All of it. None of it.

"Dain," he manages, wiping his eyes with his other sleeve. "Not Anja. I go by Johannes Dain now." A smile. "It's one of the only changes I think I would make again."