I am glad. [ —the words fall softly as Sion leads the way out of the med bay, beckoning his friend along for the journey first with the flash of a smile, and then by reestablishing the link of their hands, his fingers lacing easily with Julius' own. And if the Director should begin to tug (gently and lightly!) the other man along, it is in equal parts necessity and in play, for...! As soon as Sion lays down, atop the mattress, he is certain that all the tension in his body will bleed out of him, and there will only be exhaustion left; the use of his programmable matter a taxing thing even on the best of days.

And once they reach the Captain's quarters, Sion makes short work of kicking off his boots before settling atop the bed, Julius' hand still very much in his own. ]

...when we wake, things will look better. Brighter. [ There is Sion's characteristic resolution, his certainty in the good of the world, but for whose benefit the expressed sentiment is for--... Well, it is for both Julius and himself: ] The people we left behind, I pray that they will recover from what was done.

After they are treated... I hope that they might be able to once again recline next to an important person, someone they care for most.