It's a kindness she's not sure she deserves. He doesn't know her and yet he's braving his own uncomfortable feelings to sit with a woman he has no reason to be around in order to make sure she doesn't, what. Die? TJ is pretty sure that she's not going to get that bad in the next few minutes, but with the pressure to carry on a conversation having passed, she has no qualms in just sitting there and letting the fact that he chose to sit with her be something that she can appreciate.

With her body refusing to cooperate, her mind is free to wander at the best gifts to give someone who puts an hour on hold when things are in chaos as a thank you present. And, as she starting to perhaps doze off between the spasms in her body, she realizes that they're happening fewer and further apart. And her hands are loosening up. It appears that Richie was right: the symptoms are easing, something that doesn't happen with ALS.

"Rich." No 'i'. Her hand flexes and seems to be in most working order and she sits up from where she'd been half-slouched against him, the movement far easier than it would have been twenty minutes earlier. "My hands. They're working."

Well, they're starting to.