I'm coming, and Daniel tries to reach for that in this ocean of confusion. Difficult to focus on what's real when his head is being flooded with a perspective he's never actually held, but that he could have held, if he were someone else. Raglan tells him he should be afraid of Louis, and Daniel nods, a concerned agreement. He folds his napkin in half, into quarters, in half again, a nervous tick, as they speak about the hundreds of people Louis killed.

This conversation never happened. But it feels like it did, inside of Daniel's head.

He thinks: Please fucking stop, I'll stay if you fucking stop, and there's apparently magic in that concession.

Armand has, of course, being doing nothing but standing on the other side of the door and observing Daniel's mind for the past hour. That door finally opens and he crosses the small room to take Daniel's face in his hands, and look into his eyes, and look directly at Louis.

Then it ends. A blanket draped over the mind of the mortal he's absconded with, completely obscured.