Jon's frown is gentle, sympathetic. It seems that the people chosen by the Hive hadn't been any sort of horrible coincidence; each person he's spoken to offered something to grant it strength and allow it to spread it's thrall wider than it did before.

"...The Hive used a lot of our history to its favor, and much of it for the worst," Jon assures her, after a moment of considering his words. "But I know that doesn't ease the burden of having done things that you would never do in your own, unobstructed mind. I'm sorry."

He hesitates, the silence lingering only for a moment, before he speaks again. It's easier to bear parts of himself that he hadn't been able to with other people to those who have known him so deeply, even if in a place where they could hardly know themselves.

"When the Hive claimed me as part of itself, I was terrified. I could feel myself slipping into the collective, and my individual mind would have continued to try to fight itself into nothingness. Even if the situation wasn't ideal... your harmonies brought me a great deal of comfort, when I was losing myself. If it robbed me of my will, I wouldn't know it. All I know is that, in that time of both deep, profound interconnectedness that my mind sometimes still strains itself to try to reach, and that time of terror at my loss of self, your harmonies centered what was left of me, gave me direction, left me something that wasn't simply pushing against inevitability."