I'm sorry, for what it's worth. I'm not naive enough to think I'm the only one who's lost something of import.

[With a rasping breath, he brings his hand to cover Ryan's fidgeting fingers. Gently, he presses them down, eases them into stopping.] Would this place be similar, though? I've died here. In a way, does that not make me a... [fuck, what was the term?] ... ghaost?

[He's pretty sure he said it right.]