Something aches inside Grey's chest when he sees those eyes well up with tears. He's already reaching out to Midnight when he bumps in against his chest. Grey's arms go around him, his hand big and wide as it covers most of Midnight's head as he presses the mage against himself, his other hand splayed wide and reaching at the small of Midnight's back.

He says nothing, but holds the trembling mage against himself tightly, his nose buried in bloody and damp hair.

These pirates, if they weren't dead already, Grey would murder them a thousand times to get even, to pay back this broken look on the face of the mage he knows, a man who is full of light and sun and laughter.