Asimov, four feet tall and friendly as ever, snuggled up to Rise in a soft and fluffy hug. Otacon took little notice of Cujo slobbering all over his hand--a distant sort of smile was on his face, hiding the memory of that voice and that horrible creaking...

"She's right, Rise." he remarked absently. "It wasn't stupid, whatever it was. But you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."