Thor has always been a tactile man, giving and taking casual touch as easily as breathing, withdrawing from it only when his pain was greatest, when he felt he did not deserve such comfort. He does not withdraw from Amelia's arms now, holding to her instead as if she could keep him from sinking, drawing on her strength to keep him tethered to the here and now. "I know," he murmurs, trying once again to take her message to heart and wholly believe it. "I just... I wish..."

He doesn't finish the thought, instead letting out a small sigh, too mentally weary to be frustrated at himself. On nights like tonight, it's easy to get caught in the spiral of his own thoughts, mired in a battle that cannot be decisively won at the end of a blade. He would be foolish to face it alone when Amelia would gladly fight at his side. And perhaps he is a fool anyway, but still she stands with him.

"Maybe sleep is overrated," he says instead at last, sounding almost as though he's teasing, a jest to lighten the mood and laugh the nightmare away.