Neal nods, relieved, hoping for a slow morning of curling around each other in bed until the bathroom or breakfast calls too strongly to ignore. He locks and chains the door as soon as they’re inside, coming over to Malcolm again and wrapping him up in a hug that’s almost like a kid snuggling a teddy bear.

“We’re okay, right?” It’s murmured against Malcolm’s hair. “We’ll be okay.”

He shivers. “I feel like something horrible is going to happen and I don’t know what.”