"Make it to th'lift," he said softly, exhaustion and cold making his words slur together, and then he was doing his best to keep up with any movement Arthur made. If this had been a dream, he could simply have dreamt up a gun and shot himself out or possibly a heater would have appeared or... "Arthur... love, make a, a paradox, be on the roof... or... or, s'this... we're awake?"
He pulled back after asking and started pawing with his free hand at the blanket and jacket he was wearing, wanting to look for his new sometime-tattoo that Morpheus had inadvertently gifted him with. His fingers were stiff and clumsy with cold, though. "...need my totem," he said under his breath before looking up through horrendously greasy hair at Arthur again.