He’ll nod, and he wants to follow that tug, wants to go to the bed. But there’s one last thing that he’d prefer to handle now, before it happens.

Because it’s going to happen. And he needs to know if Jacobi thought about it.

“Did you realize I’m probably going to have to see you dead?” And his voice is much more quiet now, because the amount he hates that…

“Your head blown off. Or ripped off. Throat slit. Crushed. That I might have to pick up your corpse. Hold your body.”

He closes his eyes.

“That it’s been flashing in front of my eyes all week?”