His fingers remain tight with hers, it's soothing, more than he'd really like to admit. More than he'd care to try and unpackage, along with everything else right now. But then, he supposes, they have plenty of time for that.

"I don't know, I'm pretty fuckin' big and can be pretty fuckin' bad."

It's said in jest though, perhaps even in mockery of someone who's decidedly not in this room. It's not without appreciation for her, though. For wanting to step up and protect him from his own demons. He steels himself, takes a breath. Right. He's ready. And so, he follows her through the door- out of his own mental prison and into the less horrible Wonderland one.