"These hands," Greg said, repeating the words even as the smile tickled at his lips in some relief. He didn't know his name but there was something there, something basic and primal that Theo seemed to recognize and know. His hands moved up higher under Theo's nightshirt and he stroked down, letting his fingers trail along, touching Theo tenderly with every brush, "They love you, Theo, worship you in their own way. I am the whisper," he said, and now he was smiling warmly, "And what do I tell you? Words of love and devotion, of my pain at losing you and my need for you. You are right," he added with a low chuckle, "I am no doctor, love. I'm just a man, a poor broken man at that, but the one who has carried a torch these last five years for you."
Greg gave a small sigh, "Five years I have missed you, Theo and I suspect you have been in here," and he thought he felt a tremble in the body he touched and he added soothing noises even as he stroked Theo's skin directly, "Listen, love and feel safe. I'm here, and you don't have to fear of being alone. I'm never going to leave you alone again Theo, never."