Parker is a mirage of bruises and blood and brightness as she comes towards him, a hand under his chin as she tilts his head back and forth, checking for concussion he assumes.

"Oh good, you're fine," she says, brisk and even and his bonds are loose and he can't hug her the way he wants to because she's so close to broken but god -

"Parker." It's either a prayer or a benediction. Who knows which.

She pokes his nose.