"Good," Wolfe says softly, his arms sliding down to embrace Chris instead, to pull him to his chest and tuck his head against his shoulder. His heart is still beating fast, but not as badly as before when he'd been on the edge of panic. Tears threaten his eyes again, though this time more in relief than sorrow. He holds Chris there for a long moment, hand on the back of his head, buried in blond curls.

Wolfe closes his eyes, taking a shaky breath that's full of the scent of sandalwood and salt. "I could live without you, Chris, if you ever decided. But when you've been my dearest friend and my strongest support, why in the name of your Queen or the Maker would I want to?"

Turning his head, he kisses Chris' ear, whispering softly. "One instant of blackness doesn't erase years of our history. We'll come back from this if we both are willing to work at it, and we'll be stronger for it."