Eyeing the gunk washed out of Glacius' gills, Carlisle wonders just how much trouble it will be to clean this room once his partner is well. They really should, he supposes, just in case the sickness lingers in the air, clinging to the furniture and sheets. He doesn't get to dwell long on that that thought as his partner takes his hand, drawing his attention. He gently returns Glacius' grasp, his own hands shaking from the chill of the room.

"Of course, my f- friend," he consoles with a soft smile, hoping his partner will think little of how much effort Carlisle is putting into getting him well. He knows he would think far too long on it, himself. "Perhaps now that you c- can breathe, your head will clear, and you will see I was t- trying to help you all along."