There's always that moment, that in-between time where Ronan feels locked in place, a prisoner in his own body and mind. He stares as Noah shifts, his movements like a living person instead of a blink from one spot to the next.

One more breath and Ronan can move, too.

There's a bottle in his hands and he lifts it, squinting at it in the dark, before turning his attention back to Noah.

"You can't decay," he says, remembering that word distinctly, remembering the broken sound of Noah's voice when he'd said. His voice still feels thick in his mouth. "And, I looked, man. Your body's still there. No one's moved it."