[ She's right; he doesn't know who she is, or at least who she used to be. This small child before him will never have a presence in his life outside of his memories. But what does that matter? Even if he doesn't know the Gray that was, he knows the Gray that is, and shouldn't that be more meaningful when all is said and done?

There's no use trying to cling desperately to the past. He should know that better than anyone. ]

So?

[ He counters her argument without pause, voice still as unwavering as before. ]

They know, and they don't care. Not about who you were, only what you can do for them.

[ A tool for their machinations, whatever those might be, instead of a living breathing human being. He takes a step forward, tensing again at the sensation of the church closing around him. ]

You asked me before if it was good that everyone's happy. Are you happy?

[ Because, quite frankly, she is the only one that matters here. ]