That he even registers Laerryn's touch, right now, says a lot about how anchoring it's been through the worst moments of his life. There's a glance, a flicker of strained gratitude before he's focused entirely on Evandrin again, even though he should be just as focused on Neal, suffering through all of this just because he wants to help.

It's not that he isn't listening - his nod is fervent, he's storing all the detail he can - but everything else seems so far away. All he can see is the pain contorting his husband's borrowed body, and squeezing his hand and leaning in close barely helps. There's nothing to protect him from.

Again.

Still, some of that tension dissolves at his husband's touch, enough for a ragged chuckle to clear his lips. "That you're an incurable romantic." It's an old joke, one that became horribly bleak in those last couple of months.