He meets Tom's gaze, returns the nod, but he hangs back. When he lifts his hands in the dimness they're dark and glistening. He's seen this before. He can see the blood painting Neil's back and shoulders.

He doesn't feel like he should touch anyone at all, right now.

He wipes his knife blade on his thigh and sheathes it again. He stands over the two of them, watching. Trying to breathe normally again. Neil's alive. That's what matters. That's all that matters.