There's nothing of impatience in his face when she finally draws back — his own arms loosening easily — and looks at him. He smiles, gentle, and his expression is soft. They're both here, after the last few days, and that's something in and of itself to be happy about.

He breathes out, wry, and answers, "Some. There's a lot that needs to be done."

He'd crashed not too long after it became clear that they were safe. Impossible not to, after how hard the fight had been. But he'd been roused by nightmares, found them behind closed eyelids ever since. Their familiarity doesn't make them easier to deal with — worse, maybe, for the new locations for old fears, seeing the now in the Gallows as much as space.