She hugs him back, one-armed and gentle. "Yeah, that about sums it up," she says, soft. "It feels awful, but... we've made it through worse." She just has to keep believing that until it feels as true as it actually is. The hug helps, the anxiety dying down into something more manageable, but leaving in its wake a wave of annoyance that Sheena's immediately certain can't be her own. Oops.

"I think he's still awake, actually," she says, reaches up with the hand that had been wrapped around herself to rub at the center of her collarbone where the annoyance settles faint and sour. "Do you feel up to meeting him?" Her tone's cautious, but moping's never suited either of them.