[ Lestat takes the offered hand in his, lifting it to his mouth and pressing a kiss against Louis' fingertips, before he threads their fingers and lets their hold drop into his lap. ]

I believe so. That place changed him, like it did with us the first time we arrived. He was dressed like some angel or cherub, with the robe and wings. Some attempt at humour, I imagine.

[ Lestat's fingers trace back and forth over one of Louis, his eyes dropping down to the head of curls and the line of Armand's torso visible before it's shrouded by the comforter. If Louis was on his other side he'd be able to see the wounds himself, so Lestat is thankful that he has chosen to kneel beside him instead. ]

We were fighting them off, but Armand didn't have a jacket, and they overwhelmed us, separated us. I couldn't get to him, all I could do was watch while they held him down underfoot and tore the wings from his back.

[ Witnessing such an act would be horrifying enough, but to be forced to watch it happen to someone you care for... it's surely obvious, now, why Lestat looks so haunted. Watching Louis bleed out had been frightening, but at least he hadn't seen him tortured, at least he actually managed to save him before things got any worse. ]

But I shared my blood with him and he's strong. He was aware of his surroundings enough to give me directions to this place and to unlock the door with his mind, so I am sure he'll pull through given enough time.