He touches her arm and she looks up.
"Me too," he says again, not responding to her in the here and now, responding to something she said along time ago. Something she said on paper, in a letter she left for him after he had run away. Something he had wanted to refute, had tried to ignore, had thought too dangerous to acknowledge. But here it is and here they are and he's acknowledging it, simultaneously to her and himself.
Sam says nothing, her gaze swimming briefly out of focus as she swallows, takes a breath and takes one more step towards him.
A step that allows him to pull her closer.