After a quiet walk down from the city's heights, the two of them sat comfortably in a room behind Lemm's shop. Lemm sat sideways at a cluttered desk, while Quirrel slouched over a small table. Both nursed hot cups of tea.

Lemm broke the silence. "If you don't want to talk about it—"

Quirrel waved his hand and put down the teacup. "No, no. I do. I will." He sighed. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

Lemm gave a small shrug.

Quirrel cleared his throat. "I apparently spent a fair amount of time in the city, back before the Infection. Enough that I could identify… broadly… who those bugs were." He took a deep breath. "Half the population of the City of Tears, Lemm." He looked up from the table. "Half."

He nodded slowly, frowning.

"Not volunteers," he clarified. "Nor members of the sect. They were kidnapped. Or coerced. I'd thought that bugs were leaving the city in droves, or succumbing to the plague, but instead they were snatched up and slaughtered. Drained of life. They did who knows what with all the SOUL…" He folded his hands and leaned his head on them. "It's stupid, really. I've seen death before. We all have. I don't know why… The grief, the horror; I just—it was too much. I don't know why."

Lemm listened, silently sipping his tea.

"I froze. My mind drowned in images, half-imagined sensations. What might have happened to them all. I wondered. Was there anything I could have done? How did I miss something this heinous? Was…" He swallowed and his fingers tightened. "Did I know? Did Monomon know? I have to imagine the King knew. Little details I'd noticed; why didn't I piece them together at the time?" His voice dropped to whisper. "I feel guilty. I was there. In the city. While it was happening. How could I have missed this? Worse; was I… involved?"

He shook his head. "It was too much, all at once. It felt like someone had taken a nail to my head. I wanted to cry. I remember feeling dizzy. From there, it's all hazy." He sighed, quirking a smile. "And then you—heh—"

Lemm looked up sharply.

Quirrel stifled a giggle. "I thought the corpses had come to life and were attacking me!" He snorted and leaned forward. "You realize that, if you want to stop a bug's defense response, shaking them isn't going to help?"

Lemm dipped his head. "I wasn't thinking straight," he mumbled.

Quirrel smirked into his cup. "Yes, well. That makes two of us."

Lemm was quiet for a minute, then tilted his head. "It seems like you've sorted yourself out logically, but I can see you're still worked up. I'm no expert on this sort of thing, but maybe you should try approaching it from a more emotional angle."

Quirrel gave him a puzzled look. "I thought I was?"

He shook his head. "Wrapping it into a neat package of words doesn't resolve what you're feeling. And I can't really counter with my own words anyway because I don't know a thing about the whole situation. You could have been the head of the operation for all I know."

Quirrel looked sick at the very idea, so Lemm quickly backpedaled. "I mean, I don't know about the events in the past—these ones anyway—but I do know you, and you're not the kind of person who could ever tolerate such atrocities if you had even the slightest hint that they might be happening. You're too nice. Besides, they were so damn secretive and manipulative that they disappeared half of a city, and people still didn't think of them as anything more than just a weird cult. It wasn't just you."

Lemm put his cup down. "Look, just…" He got up and put his hands on his hips. "Stand up."

Quirrel gave him an inquisitive look but obeyed, stepping away from the table.

Lemm raised his arms, hesitating a moment to give Quirrel a chance to refuse. Then he reached up around his neck and wrapped him in a gentle hug. He had to stretch a bit to make up for the height difference.

Quirrel froze in astonishment, then tentatively hugged Lemm back. He relaxed gradually, finally closing his eyes and giving a deep sigh.

Lemm tightened his hold, and Quirrel responded in kind. They stood quietly for a few long moments. Rain thudded on the walls, not quite muted by the thick stone. Lumafly light flickered softly from a globe on the ceiling.

Quirrel's breath hitched and he leaned into Lemm, who shifted to better prop up the taller bug.

Lemm ran his thumb back and forth along the grooves of Quirrel's shell, frowning to himself as Quirrel shuddered with silent sobs.

This continued for some time. Even after Quirrel had exhausted his tears, neither bug had any pressing desire to disengage.

It was Quirrel who broke the silence. "Thank you," he whispered. "I actually haven't done this in… well..." He paused thoughtfully. "Huh. I can't remember the last time I've been embraced."

Lemm grunted. "Sounds like you haven't been keeping very good company."

He laughed softly. "I suppose I haven't. Not that I kept much company at all, before coming back."

"Hrmm." Lemm tapped absently at Quirrel's shell. "A few things," he began.

"Oh?"

"First of all, you didn't know what they were doing. A few people knew, and you weren't one of them. Otherwise the whole mess was kept extremely secret. It's as simple as that. If you knew, you'd have done something. You didn't know, so you couldn't."

Quirrel hummed noncommittally.

"Second; yes, we've all seen death, but this wasn't from the Infection. Not some mysterious force. Not the ancient shells that line the walls; that's just Hallownest. This, is horrifying. It's murder. A massacre. A slaughter. Intelligent bugs thought out what they were doing, and did it. And they hid it too, so they must have known it was wrong."

"I suppose."

Lemm rolled his eyes. "My point is, you're beating yourself up for being sensitive, Quirrel. Frankly I'd have been more concerned if you'd brushed the whole thing off. Which, by the way, you did try to do."

"Ah. So I did," he admitted sheepishly.

"Yes. So stop doing that. Your horrified reaction was perfectly appropriate. It is horrifying. And sad!"

Quirrel dug his fingers into Lemm's fuzz. "Okay." He turned his head away. "You didn't… fall apart," he said, sounding resentful.

Lemm huffed. "I didn't know any of those bugs. Wasn't even hatched until after this whole dump became a crypt. Besides, I didn't understand what had happened until you explained it. To me it was just another pile of old carapaces. Biggest pile I've seen, I'll admit, but otherwise not terrifically notable."

"That's fair." He took a deep breath and pulled away, smiling sadly. He bent to briefly tap his forehead against Lemm's. "Thank you, Lemm."

He gave his hands a squeeze before letting him go. "Better now?"

Quirrel nodded, readjusting his bandana. He looked up, suddenly serious. "I do still want to go back."

Lemm sputtered. "Wh-now!? Why!?"

Quirrel raised his hands. "No, no! Later. Not today. I want know what happened. Truly. There must be some form of records there."

He gave him a wary look. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

He shrugged, almost embarrassed. "It'll be worse not knowing. I just want to see what they were doing." He tangled his fingers together. "And I'm hoping I might get some closure? I just know it'll haunt me otherwise. I need to know."

Lemm crossed his arms. "Alright. Fine. But you have to wait at least three days, and when you do go, I'm coming with you."

Quirrel twitched in surprise. "Oh, you don't have to do that."

"Well, I am," he said, daring Quirrel to challenge him.

Instead, he grinned and grabbed him in a crushing hug. "Thank you, my friend," he said, voice cracking. "I love you."

"Of course, Quirrel," he mumbled, returning the gesture with a warm smile. "I love you too."