The weight of her head on his shoulder creates some kind of shadow weight in his chest, hard and aching and filling his rib cage until he can barely breathe. He's missed her so much. In moments of delirium, in moments of lucidity, and all the moments when he thought he'd die out there - always, he'd thought of her. He has to scrub the heel of his hand across his eyes, pressing in against his face in one quick swipe.

"Oh -" He lets go of her, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table. It's neatly organized, along with everything else in the apartment - but that just means the remote's easy to find. In a breath, he's back to where he was, his hand resting on her upper arm. "Here."