[As the two of them find a calmer rhythm for their breaths, so, too, does Red settle. The bird's feathers begin smoothing down, the snapping of his beak and the low noises quieting. His legs tucked down as the bird perched, sharp eyes softening.

There was quiet between them. And perhaps that was part of the problem. Jaskier had seen so many people in this house when he was healing, giving them a wave or a small chat as he gathered his breakfast. There was always the creaking of floorboards as people moved around, or light chatter, or the cabinets closing. Now, it was so terribly quiet.

Jaskier holds him, and breathes with him, and even hums a song under his breath. Waiting for as long as his friend needs. (Giving himself this moment where his mind latches onto nothing. A place where he cannot entertain the thought that his friend has --)

Sam finally says something -- or attempts to, with a laugh and a cough, and though the situation is far from amusing, Jaskier allows him to pull up with a smile of his own.] I said it was all right. Don't you listen?

[Clearly not. Jaskier watches him through his half-hearted attempts at laughing, peering through the guise they try to raise. What he sees in Sam's face allows him to let go of his hand, though he stays close, moving his hand to Sam's leg instead.] You were a bit too busy, I imagine, to notice. But it creeps up on us all. [He sets a hand on his shoulder now, rubbing his thumb there.] A lot has happened, very swiftly, all at once. And you have handled it expertly.