"No, it makes sense," J says, quick but still soft, thumb brushing gently along S's side where his hand rests. "I... I wish I didn't know either. But... if you have to know too... at least you don't have to go through it alone." He doesn't want it, and he could never say he does, but it helps, a little, to have this. It almost feels like there's a point to something he knows is entirely pointless even so. He would never have wished this on S, but he would have done anything not to feel so alone with it himself, trying to understand what was happening to him, then living by himself with it. If he can spare S that much, it's worth something at least.

And still part of him wants to apologize. He knows it can't be true, but still some tiny, irrational voice in his head suggests it's his fault, that his madness is somehow catching. That can't be true. He knows it can't be true. It wouldn't make any sense. If such things were contagious, he wouldn't have had to figure it out by himself, and S would have caught it long ago. That isn't how it works. It still takes a moment for him to be able to swallow back the apology.

"Sense has almost nothing to do with it," he adds, still quiet. "Sometimes nothing at all." It's hard to know just what he wants to say. Instinctively he knows this isn't S's fault, that he can't be blamed for feeling what he feels or for what his body does. That's just how these things work. But it's difficult to put that into words when it's not what he would say to himself, almost entirely the opposite. "Even when it does, even when you have a reason to be afraid, it's just... overpowering. It eats away at everything." He hesitates, worrying at his lower lip, glancing over at S. He looks so sweet like this, tucked into J's side, and all J wants is to protect him, to find some way to undo this. "You were scared something happened to me?" He frowns at himself, shakes his head slightly. "Scared I did something."