That's not what this is comes unbidden to Dan's lips, and he keeps it quiet, because the sensation of that strong arm around him, palm to his heart, provides more clarity than the slightly frazzled radio in his head.

This means something.

Marcus is giving him something, something Dan wants, just because Dan wants it. Needs it. But it's not as if he feels like it's something Marcus doesn't want to give.

Maybe it'll clear up when he's had some sleep. As for sleep, he can feel it wrapping around him without threat of further nightmare. He'll sleep well this way, he knows, and he can examine the why when it's light again.

"We're safe," he agrees. "And warm." And happy.