Felix Caelus

He opens his eyes at the strain in Jim's voice. The fear he's fighting down before it turns into panic. And that alone drags Felix back from sinking into his own memories- standing on the precipice of a shadowed stairway, the wash of fetid air snuffing out the light, the unwanted memories of what he did down there- it all becomes that much less important beside the knowledge that his husband is afraid. Not gone. But faded, unfocused. Less real and less tangible than the shudder in Jim's breath and the sick look in his face.

Felix leans over, rests a bandaged hand on Jim's arm. Tugs it until the other looks at him, if only to urge him not to do that and risk hurting himself.

"I... yeah." Should he say he knows? Remind them both of how many he made? How aware he was of the rescue team's progress through his-their domain? Felix doesn't know. It takes a few minutes before he can bring himself to say any more. He's trying not to think too hard when he does.

"I don't... know how long they would last. Most of them. I don't think I was that skilled. The enchantments might have frayed, or run out of power..."