He knows nothing is going to be fixed overnight. It may not really get quite "fixed", as Hell likes to keep reminding them. But that brief glint of a smile is more than a welcome sight. It's proof positive that something of Wylan hadn't shattered completely, that this recent terror could possibly be something they moved past.

"The gloves?" He asks as he takes Wylan's hand and gets up. "Made some headway before...the fog. I think I might be able to ask him for his pair to fix up soon. I want to get it right on the practice sets first."

Right. They had that project. He had almost forgotten in the state the fog and all its horrors had left him in.

"But...if you want something to tinker with. I still plan on sending Noah glitter bombs--even if he swears I don't actually owe him anything."