So, he's some sort of shade, haunting dreams instead of some real-world location? That's quite a departure, though not a senseless one; the city is too loud and bustling for a ghost to be heard there, she thinks. But it's still not right. He almost sounds like the Balladeer, offering explanations with the awkward simplicity of someone who doesn't appreciate how weird they are.

Greta gives his arm a gentle squeeze, as if to anchor him, or to defy the idea that he might become insubstantial and vanish before her eyes. If this is all that's left of him, it's still something.

"You haven't made a mess of anything," she insists, albeit gently. It's probably just as well that he interrupted this particular dream, anyway; it only would have made her ache in the morning. So will this, of course, but at least it will be on someone else's behalf instead of her own. "There's nothing to forgive." She might add that it was only a dream, but if that's all Jay has anymore, she won't dismiss it.

She pulls in a considering breath - is this a good idea? - before adding, "Listen. I don't know if you can--can control where you're drifting, but if you can find me again..." she ducks her head a little, searching out his eyes, "you're welcome here." If this was a story, she'd think herself a complete fool for inviting a ghost into her head, but he's already here and she doesn't think she's come to any harm. Jay's a good lad. Besides, what's the alternative?

If some part of him is still here, maybe the Rift will restore him again. And if it doesn't, she won't have him adrift and alone forever.