"You're my friend...how could I not?" Declan asked with the sort of innocent directness that always made his peers wonder if he wasn't somewhere on what was once colloquially referred to as 'the spectrum'. Golden Age medicine had curtailed all manner of mental and physical ails, but Guardians weren't always previously born after the Traveler arrived. Some people the Ghosts brought back were truly curiosities of the prior age, and while that usually manifested as cultural traits, sometimes more unique things came into play.

Silver eyes slid down, looking at the hand on his arm with a blank sort of confusion, full lips pursing for a moment. Eventually he looked up again, offering one of those small, unsure smiles, broad chest rising and falling with a deep breath.

"Thank you for taking my calls. Mm, and thank you for giving me something to come home to. It...it's been good, being able to think about home as just that. Knowing I might be missed, even a little."