"I've been worse," he offers, still looking her over. The height difference between them is marked to him as he stands in front of her. God, she's a teenager. She's a teenager who has been tortured and branded a traitor and clearly frightened and nothing about this is okay.

"Hey, Terezi..."

No, it's no good. There's nothing he can say here. So, when Carlos doesn't have words for something, a gesture has to do. He doesn't do this kind of thing often. However, what happened at the Cornucopia coupled with what had happened in prison merits making an exception.

He steps forward, wraps his arms around Terezi's shoulders, and pulls her into a hug.