Dan sheds his shirt without complaint, resting his head in Aster's hand. He isn't in much pain, but he appreciates the tenderness. He feels like Aster's one of the few people he can reliably expect tenderness from. Aster's palm is warm on his face, and Dan resists the urge to turn into it and give that palm a kiss. Just because he feels a magnetic attraction to Aster doesn't mean he wouldn't be risking his room and board if the feeling weren't reciprocated.

But there's nothing risky about enjoying the warm of Aster's hand on his face, the other gently swabbing away blood-crusted hair.

"They're in pain," he says, forlorn. "Emotional pain. Heartbreak and anger. I got a flash of- I ain't felt that much righteous anger before. But I know the heartache."

Dan's felt the gutted sense that his life is over, was over, is over, for decades now. It's just dulled by now, spread out over the years rather than honed to the fine point of the present.

"She hijacked my body. I didn't have no control over it. I couldn't might even feel it besides the tips of my toes and fingers. But it felt like I was dancing, or watching someone else dance but from inside them. If that makes sense." Dan taps his temple. "And I heard music. A whole symphony right up close. I think it was Tchaikovsky."