[ Oh Lance, they suffereth together. Ian sits up slowly from his slouch, ambles over to the kitchen to find a dish towel or something. When he finds one, he points it at Nate to kindly inform him: ]

You're the worst.

[ And then Lance, much more companionably: ]

We don't need an empathy bond to share this deep, deep pain. This is the trenches. You deserve better. I think we'll come out of this stronger having endured.

[ And now he's just gonna clean up the sea world show. ]