[The pity shifts to concern - going from all the fight to none of it, sitting before him in a mirrored position, fear palpable to the point of speeding his own heart in his chest.]

...I know who it is you fear. But you must not give up. We do still have time, but we will not if you let him crumple you up like a bit of cloth.

[He tries to shift into a better sitting position - his face contorts in pain as he does, body buckling forward and hands flattening against the floor.]

I'm not letting him do that. That's why I'm still here.

And you are supposed to be my strength.