He didn't know how long he'd been there- with his eyes covered, time seemed to blur together. All he'd been able to do was listen to the Madame speaking when she talked of her plans, his fingers clenching- one too many outbursts against her had left him with more than a few choice bruises and a seemingly permanent aching head. Bridget was with him, and when they were alone, he would talk quietly with her, offering simple reassurances (even if he didn't quite believe them himself).
Thomas didn't look up when the door opened- he knew better than to seem hopeful, especially when it was likely just someone dropping off stale bread and warm water. When he heard Abby's voice, however, he sat up straighter- if slowly- and turned toward the sound. "Abby?" He blinked in the sudden light as she removed his blindfold and watched, numbly, as she untied his bindings. "Oh, Abby, my love-" He reached for her with sore hands, tugging her into an embrace, one that Bridget quickly, wordlessly, latched on to.