[Hank doesn't laugh.

For a split second he looks surprised and then his expression pulls tight with something- something that locks down when Hank closes his eyes, something that churns underneath the rest of his emotions like a dark and heavy cloud, like thunder rolling in the distance.

Cars roll, distant, down the road he can't see. The sound of traffic joins the sirens. Someone honks their horn somewhere, far away. Hank pushes his eyes open to frown at Cayde, mouth tight with enough anger to hold that cloud of something else in check.]

You're awake.

[His voice is tense and hard - and steady. So. His breathing might not be there yet, but at least there's that.]

This isn't a dream, cause we're here, we're both here and you're talkin to me. That's as real as it gets around here. And now that you are, I need you to use that superhero bullshit to get me out.

[Hank's hand slides from Cayde's head to the back of his neck. He makes an effort to mix in some of that conciliatory voice from before, his tone going a shade or two lighter.]

Get us out. What do you think? You awake enough to help me do that?