Swallowing thickly, he does not protest her offer of comfort. It's unexpected but welcome; and rather than explain why he feels like he should have been able to do better-- wishes he could have done better by those people-- he's not so far distant from that time that he doesn't remember how hopeless the situation was. It was ridiculously lucky or the Dominion's plan all along that they'd escaped in the end, instead of getting executed.

"Yes. I suppose there isn't." Lowering the ice as it starts to get too cold and his eye nearly feels numb, he turns the icepack over, as if considering its weight, its effectiveness as both a tool of healing and a weapon. "It still-- bothers me. I hope it always does, as strange as that sounds. I know it's a luxury."

He smiles sadly. "But it's about the only luxury I really treasure. It's the only luxury I'd fight for."