[There. That's all she needs. Claire nods, the faintest of smiles on her lips. He can be brought back. Always. She's just got to figure it out with him.]
That's my boy, Theon. [And just like that, she's softer, and her hands no longer work to keep him in a position, but move to his face to wipe away some of the tears. Her handkerchief is filthy, and her fingers only a little cleaner, but the care is the same. It's less of an attempt to tidy him up and more of a hope to soothe him.] You're all right. Good lad.
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That's my boy, Theon. [And just like that, she's softer, and her hands no longer work to keep him in a position, but move to his face to wipe away some of the tears. Her handkerchief is filthy, and her fingers only a little cleaner, but the care is the same. It's less of an attempt to tidy him up and more of a hope to soothe him.] You're all right. Good lad.
You have to know your name.
[He told her that.]