Through this entire stretch of time, since Cosima's voice came over the crystal to break this news (since Granitefell, since sitting on that bench with Tony while the aftershocks of it all worked through him) it had been hard to feel anything at all. So he was drenched, so he was so achingly cold that the feeling had worked its way through to his bones. It suited well enough.

If there is grief, it is slow in coming. A distant pressure, like pressing down on a frozen limb. Even as it gathers force when Wysteria's head raises to look at him, Ellis is still aware of it as a far off thing, dulled and slow to sink into his body, but the pain it promises is no less excruciating.

The heavy thud of his pack hitting the floor startles Tab upright. Ellis has time enough to discard his heavy overcoat before he has rounded the desk, stepped past Ruadh's shifting bulk, to fold his body down into Wysteria to hold her.