He looks like he doesn't even begin to believe that she doesn't think he's crazy, but he is too worn out today to argue the point with any kind of determination or effectiveness. He could always pull out the old I spent two whole years of my life in White Pines Psychiatric Hospital, but he doesn't think it would be particularly satisfying.

"Maybe you're right about the evidence, or... about Light," he allows, wanting to believe it despite the memories and feelings of a cold but brilliant detective existing in his mind and body.

He seems more than a little taken aback at her invitation to join her on the bed, but it's an invitation to peace. It must be, and he'd be an idiot to reject it given the current tone of their conversation. What would it say, I don't believe you and would rather not be near you right now?

He straightens and tucks a let under him as he lowers himself onto the twin-sized mattress, letting the other one dangle off the edge. Not knowing what to say after accepting the invitation, he opts to remain silent.