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There's no saying anything, might not be for a long time. They'd had mental text time for a good part of it, before things went down, and there had been talking then. All April has had for the past...forever, she doesn't even know. But all there had been was talk.

Fuck talking.

She just wraps her arms around his neck and gives a small jump that's still enough to get her lets wrapped around Will's waist. Fuck walking, too. Fuck that when she can just mold into being part of Will instead, coming back home fully.

One hand goes to her butt. It's not a sexy welcome home sort of gesture, it's purely supportive. Making sure that even if her legs turned to jelly, she still had something to fall back on. A reminder he was right there, ready to catch her if need be, ready to do whatever it took so they wouldn't be split up again any time soon. His other arm around her back, he's content to stay just like for what may be entirely too long, all things considered. Except time is for other people because right now Will's world boils down to April and nothing else. No time, no odd clothing, no shattered coffee mug, no coffee on the floor, just April.

Eventually, though, he does move past the slow rocking back and forth thing to actually making their (their!!! April is back, they're a their in each other's presence again!!!) way to the house. His stride is odd but his steps are sure because even if he's willing to drop himself in the ocean, he is absolutely not willing to drop April three feet to the ground. Fortunately he hadn't shut the door when he ran out. And he doesn't shut it when he goes back through, either. Nothing is more important than April here and now and that includes leaving the door wide open. Let the neighbors see. Let Eduardo and company come home without any obstacles. Let him hold her in the foyer to their home for a few seconds before breaking that unspoken vow of silence with a simple:

"Where to first, dear?"

Will will carry her wherever the hell she wants, no questions asked.

"Bath."

Okay, one word. More grumbled against Will's neck that said, because she is not lifting her face off his shoulder. Not if the Russians stormed in now and demanded it. Food, water, all those basic things they kept people alive would wait until later. She wanted to be able to look at herself and fell okay in her own skin before she started worrying about the rest.

While she doesn't lift her head, she does turn it just a little to watch the rooms of their house as they walk by. Kitchen, living room, stairs. All still there. Even if oddly empty at the moment, with only a pack of dogs and cats keeping it full of fur.

One word is all that's needed. Will heads off in that direction immediately. Despite any odd smells from being kept with other people (the worst) for so long, Will keeps his face tilted in her direction as much as possible. He has to see, after all, but there's a very clear vibe he'd just as eagerly curl up with her for the rest of the day if she wanted. The dog on their bed doesn't bounce forward, but gives April a welcome home by way of happy drooling tongue and wagging tail, which Will doesn't even seem to notice. He's received orders. All that matters now is fulfilling it.

Keeping April just as closely and securely against him while leaning to turn on the hot water is done without any fumbling or awkward positioning. Until he kneels next to the tub, effectively holding her in his lap, leaning back so he can get a better look at her, what she's got on, one hand loosely taking hold of the shirt's hem.

"Arms up," mumbled, but with a tone to get across just how pleased he is she's back, absolutelfondness and adoration written over his face, in his voice, his body language. April wants a bath, she'll get one. He'll see to that himself.

Arms go up. Shirts are removed, horrible jeans she is never going to wear again (yes, there will be a bonfire at the end of the night, don't worry) shimmied out of, the whole deal. April isn't belligerent, isn't even teasing. Just compliant as she lets Will deal with...everything. Moving, living, working out the complex puzzle of going from being carried to in bath. She's back home with the person she trusts the most in the world, he could ask her to hold this knife at just this angle and she'd do it without blinking. So long as they were back together.

And a bath happened. That too. Murder could only occur with suds were also involved.

A bath happened indeed, at first warm on the verge of being too warm, twice the usual amount of foaming bath stuff dumped in to make the sudsiest, most welcoming bath ever. If April hadn't realized she was Queen of the castle, then said bath probably proves it. He's cleaned up the dogs (and every other furry thing around the house) enough for her to know he's not stranger to it, but there's a clear difference with April. He isn't just more careful, more accommodating, and neither is he treating her like glass, like bathing an infant. The care present is much more akin to worship, to having found someone holy and sacred, loved above all else. He even takes off his shirt. Enjoy the show, April.

Which means that only after she's clean and those suds have significantly vanished, the water now too cool to be comfortable, does Will lift the plug and get up just long enough to return with a towel. And after a towel, the fluffiest bathrobe the have, warm and soft and easy to wrap around a pliant, damp body. No knives, no tools of anything close to a threat, just a warm cozy space fueled by body heat since, yes, Will picks her up again as soon as he can like he's afraid he won't get the chance to if he doesn't. Like she'll vanish, again, if he doesn't keep her so close he she could feel every bone in his chest if not for the floofy fabric around her.

"Bed?" asked quietly from the doorway. The bed was, of course, in sight. But perhaps... "Or are you hungry?"

Not that Will couldn't go to the kitchen and get her something if she was (he would), but the idea of having even a foot of space away from her right now was one of the Most Depressing things he could imagine.

"Bed."

So she'll lose a few pounds. Whatever. With Satan as a bed pillow she hadn't been the worst off. For some people that may have weird ethical implications, but April considered what Happened in Russia Stays in Russia. Or wherever they were. At the end of the day, Lucifer had no holds on her, no matter how many snack cakes she stole from him.

"Everyone okay?"

"They are now," comes out immediately, the fondest smile that could ever be plastered on his face as he crosses to the bed and gingerly lays her down. Before he curls up right next to her, of course, tugging the blanket at the end up enough to cover exposed feet and not much else. Then he's right back to the whole disregard for breathing room between them, nosing past wet hair to press a kiss to her forehead. "Bet your boys are on their way home as we speak. You'll get to see everyone being okay soon enough."

Hopefully none of them got nabbed by other raccoon lovers. Not because that means April would lose one of her devoted minions, but because Will knows how damned horrifying they can be when they mean business. They'll get here one way or another, he's sure.

She makes a small noise that confirms, yes, she's listening. But there's no real room for thinking following that confirmation. The jerks would trickle in, one by one, like they had the very first time she'd set up an apartment in the City. If they'd actually remember the destruction they'd caused in their uncivilized phase would be something new to see. Later. Much, much later.

For now there was bed and Will and dogs. She pressed her face against his shoulder, curling into his grip that last millimeter that might have been left open.

While one hand of Will's fiddles with her hair, the dog has moved in for the kill...by curling up just behind her back and flopping down against the curve there. A watchful guardian ready to spring into action should it be necessary, but definitely getting a cuddly nap first. And not long after that, the foot of the bed creaks, another dog having joined in. Another part of April's home coming around to form a protective circle.

Will, once settled, doesn't move an inch. Doesn't have a reason to. Doesn't have any intention on finally falling asleep (not unless April falls asleep first, and probably not for a good hour after staring at her sleeping even then). No pressure to ask what happened, no overwhelming urge to tell her he loves her a million times over (she knows), just the singular delight of being back together in their bed. If silence and sheer security is all April wants, then that is exactly what she's going to get. Communicators buzzing or beeping, phones ringing...nothing short of the fire alarm shrieking while the sound and smell of fire clearly wafts through the house is going to break the whole April getting what she wants.

What she needs.

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