"I kriffing hope so," Bodhi mutters, more bitter than he wants to sound. He wants to just be angry, but how can you be angry at unseen puppet masters in a way that means anything? "Maybe it will, maybe... Maybe in a week he'll be himself again, and..." Would he be alright with it, then? He doesn't think so. It's the knowledge that they can do this, reach in and edit memories completely, that gets to him almost as much as the specific pain of losing his friend in such an awful, taunting way.

He's stopped shivering by now, and his fingers and toes, while a little stiff and sensitive, feel sort of normal. The fire's helping. Jude's helping. He wasn't quite in any danger, but soon he'll be comfortable again. "I just... If you're right, then, well, I just, I couldn't stay there right then." He doesn't say that this was a decision made hours ago. Jude can probably figure that out from the state of him. Physically and otherwise.