Roland wraps his arms around Inigo, hands rubbing soothing circles on his back. He closes his eyes and immediately he knows that this crying child in his arms has been through it. He hasn't told him everything yet - he doesn't have to, if it will hurt him - but there's a part of him, paternal and honed, that understands without words. Inigo's tears are never shallow. They always come from a place filled with shadow, haunting his smiles, like he has to show Roland he's always the gentle boy that supports others.

He hums quietly. Once upon a time, he also held another in these arms. Tears, there were always tears. Never enough hours in a day. Never enough...

"Let's look out for each other," he says, still keeping on, still clutching him close. "You don't have to thank me for a thing. No matter what happens from hereon out, I'll always be glad that our paths crossed and that I met you. I hope I can help you through it all, even if this train gives us a lot to worry about." He swallows thickly, opening his eyes. The smell of sweet syrup hangs in the air.

"You're not alone." He pulls back to look into his eyes, puffed and red as he sheds more tears. But Roland only offers him a generous smile; the promise he will work hard to keep. To look over another, as he has done once, twice, now for a third time. A task he will take to like a fish to water, a privilege he must earn again, and again, and again. "Not anymore."