Glacius certainly wouldn't mind Carlisle venting to him if it would help--but right now the priority must be on making sure his partner doesn't slip into that insidious, gripping exhaustion that clings to him for days and days, so perhaps it's best that he saves his energy. The alien's expression becomes tinted with fondness as the clergyman makes an active effort to dial himself back down and listen to him; that in and of itself is already a display of trust, listening to the otherworldly being and letting him take the reigns for the time being, and he appreciates it.

So Glacius turns his hand over and clasps his partner's, giving him a gentle, appreciative smile as he does so. "I think I know just the place. Come." The alien begins to stand, but does not rise fully just yet--instead he opens his arms, as if inviting Carlisle to climb into them. While he's more than capable of just snatching the clergyman up--and has done so in the past, when times have been more dire--right now he wants to offer his partner agency in this decision. It's his hope that he'll accept the physical gesture of support, and that maybe Carlisle will find refuge from all of this in his arms as he has before.