He shakes his head against Sinclair's shoulder. This isn't even really about the dream any more; the dream only illustrated and made more vivid the things he's learned and been unable to deal with over the last two days.

But he doesn't know how to explain. If he says all the things that are really bothering him -- well, he's afraid of the repercussions. From Sinclair, from himself. It'd make it all too real, somehow. He doesn't have a family, he doesn't have a past, he's hardly done anything himself. People just point him the way they want him to go and fire. He's a made thing. He's nothing more than a walking, talking security bot.

It's been playing on his mind for a while, but he's been busy staying alive. Now it's all coming together at once.