Devin is staring sightlessly at the low coffee table in front of him when a sound breaks the haze of absent, miserable thought. It's a rhythm he's intimately familiar with, and yet one that has been lacking in the apartment for weeks: the slow, steady beat of a human heart. He freezes, heart leaping dangerously towards hope, desperate for it to be true and still holding his breath in disbelief. And then a voice follows and Devin is up on his feet and darting to the bedroom in an instant. Had he been holding anything he would have dropped it.

He pulls up short in the doorway like he's smacked into an invisible wall, shock on his face and sorrow shining from unshed tears in his eyes. The Fool is standing there in front of him like a dream (please gods don't be a dream, not again), and the wave of relief and joy tangled up in the lingering burden of grief leaves him paralyzed on the threshold. He's moving again before his brain has really had time to process, gathering the Fool into a tight embrace. Devin is just present enough not to make it bone-cracking, but his fingers hook white-knuckled into his lover's clothing to get the surest purchase on him. The Fool is solid and warm and real, this isn't the hallucination of a despairing mind or a too-vivid nightmare, and holding him again is-- everything. A tiny, broken noise escapes his throat as Devin tucks his head against the Fool's shoulder and neck, closing his eyes as he gets a little lost in simply feeling.