[The quietly echoing panic accounts, in some way, for how Yuan doesn't think his next action entirely through. He knows they have an audience, in some respects, despite Botta's best efforts; he knows it may go wrong.]

[But this is Kratos and anything different than where he was, anything that has softness or kindness about it, can't do anything but help.]

If you're going to strangle me for this, do it later.

[It's a quiet rasp of a rib, some small effort to draw Kratos's attention out of where it rests now. Yuan lets Kratos have his wrist, ignores the discomfort of the grip, and bends, working his free arm under Kratos to lift him up.]

[Kratos is shaking. It's wrong. Yuan hides how shaken he is in turn under a flat face and pulls Kratos against him, palm flat between his shoulderblades. Lately Kratos has been seeking touch, it seems, and sitting up he won't be able to think he's back in the Tower. This will... probably help.]

[If you can't speak aloud, just reach back. You're safe, Kratos.]