She keeps talking, and for a moment he can't comprehend it. Everything feels strange and unreal, like he's watching a vid play out from a remove; like his brain is trying to pull him back from the visceral, horrifying violence Tayrey describes before it comes for him, too. Hunted. Eaten. Her body shutting down in slow increments, over days, under the claws of someone she trusted, for the crime of standing up to an injustice and saying no more.

Gaeta doesn't know when he clamped a hand over his mouth. Maybe somewhere around 'crushed.' He only realizes when he has to pull it away again, unsteadily, so he can limp closer and wrap his arm around Tayrey.