Under normal circumstances, wandering around holding hands probably wouldn't be his first choice. It feels weirdly like being twelve years old again, with a girlfriend he'll keep for all of three days before they both move on to greener pastures. But here, there's a purpose - and with a gun to his head, he'd have to admit that it's helping keep him grounded.

"If you have anesthetic, we can peel off some bark and see what's underneath," he offers dryly. It's like clockwork - when he's back to thinking about how his body's changed, it stops feeling like his and starts pinging some instinct to pull it apart and see how it works.