Kaworu may not be able to echo exactly Paul's shielding, but that's not nearly so critical as the effort to be there for him and with him at all. Paul doesn't quite slump over Kaworu, conscious of his smaller size (as if the angel couldn't bear him up; but it's more than that, it's the principle of it -), but he does let himself be drawn in and curled to fit. He wraps his arms back around him tentatively at first, then tighter, and he hides his face against dandelion-pale hair.

He still belongs somewhere. He still belongs to someone, to someones. If they'll still have him, if they still want him, after this, and everything else he's done -

(And he lets them, and he wants them to, and he wants so much, and why shouldn't he?)

"Thank you," he says, thickly, and nothing else at all.