"A much more apt metaphor," he agreed, wringing out his hair before stepping out the tub and into the towel. The Medicine Seller leaned into the embrace, arms wrapping around Arthur's shoulders.

"And yet, by some miracle, you have managed to crawl out your grave."

He lay his head in the curve under the other man's chin, eyes drifting shut for a moment. Arthur's pulse was there and real.

"...And that could be for a very long time, Arthur. I do not say I will stay lightly."