"My poor boy," Virginia croons.

Her hold on his arm remains firm, anchoring him.

(She's too small, too frail, to be this strong. Isn't she?)

Her other hand slips from his cheek and comes to rest over the stab wound left by Hiro's sword.

"I know how it hurts."

A beat (but how long? there are no clocks in this room), and she reassures him, softly, sadly,

"Don't worry. Soon it'll be over, and you won't feel a thing."