Durham knows better than to interrupt Aberdeen mid-flow, for all her sometimes jagged personality traits this movement of information between them is smooth, like silk. Experience usually on his side now that he's considered a mnemokinetic veteran by most Orders' standards, he uses it to ensure his own mind isn't overloaded, stores everything she offers in a place ready to be sifted through later. He assumes, perhaps prematurely, that there will be a later.

It isn't until her hands drop away from his face that he moves again, blinks once and then twice before there's a small crease showing between his eyebrows. It's possibly because he both dislikes this talk of 'Warp Sickness' and because even he can't help but be comforted by physical contact that is now lost, but he makes no attempt to hide it.

"I know," he finally speaks and is referring directly to her assertion that she will find out. He knows with colleagues like Aberdeen -like Hallah- around it really is only a matter of time. There is little one can do to escape from all that she hears, and he doesn't believe that's necessarily a bad thing in this situation.

"Until we know more I suggest we stay very much in contact."