Eventually the waterworks slow enough for him to grab for the napkins and wipe at his eyes, and though he breaks away slightly to see Hawkeye's face, he keeps an arm on his bony shoulder. Mulcahy in turn is older-looking than he would remember; his already-light hair has gone mostly silver, and there's a weariness etched into the new wrinkles of his face.
"My God," he breathes quietly. "Your face, your... how long have you been here? What... what's the last thing you remember before you got here, Hawkeye?"
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Eventually the waterworks slow enough for him to grab for the napkins and wipe at his eyes, and though he breaks away slightly to see Hawkeye's face, he keeps an arm on his bony shoulder. Mulcahy in turn is older-looking than he would remember; his already-light hair has gone mostly silver, and there's a weariness etched into the new wrinkles of his face.
"My God," he breathes quietly. "Your face, your... how long have you been here? What... what's the last thing you remember before you got here, Hawkeye?"