Esteban is sorry that there's no easy goodbyes to this, that Jake has to steel himself for what comes next. He doesn't quite know how to convey his empathy other than squeezing the other's shoulder, trying to give him a bit of a grin, even as apologetic as he is.

"Then your world's in good hands, yeah?" It feels like it's falling too short, even as he tries. He never finds the right words to say, and the days behind him have made him that much more inept at it-- too stressed and worried and tired to manage much more than a weak pat and a smile. So Esteban gives up words, and goes for a hug instead, a quick squeeze to offer the best comfort he can.

"You'll get back here. We're all gonna get back t' our worlds at some point." If he's caught onto anything lately, it's that there is progress; the train had tried to send them home after all, and though it ended up in failure, wasn't it proof enough that it wanted their wellbeing? That it wanted, if it could, to send them home?

They'd just have to hold on, just a bit longer.