The question yanks him back, but it's an sudden, unpleasant trip. He abruptly catches her by the wrist; it's so unexpected that his eyes haven't fully managed to open by the time he has. The grip is tight but not cruel. More panic than aggression.

When he does manage to get his eyes open, he has to blink several times to get focus. He's confused by the ceiling and it reads in his brow, but when he looks to her hand and he follows it back to her face, the concern ebbs.

"Right." The word is barely breath, clearly more for himself than it is for her.

He swallows and gives a tight shake of his head to assuage her concern.

"Just--been gettin' worse. Sometimes." He shakes his head again and places her hand against the center of his chest.

"I'm here. With you."

He needs to be. What if he gets lost again?