She let him cry. There were no other words, just Devyn's gentle touch through his hair and the healing magic that worked over him in small increments. What had been done to his circuits wasn't something she could entirely fix; he'd need to rest them, without the cuffs, without any further interference, for at least the better part of a day. If they kept pushing him, it could cause permanent damage, something beyond her ability to repair, and everything she'd worked for would go to shit.

Devyn's breathing was steady in counterpoint to his own. Her touch was warm and, at length, her magic left him, allowing him to simply cry and recover.

Footsteps alerted Devyn to another presence, and she lifted her head, body tensing against Waver's, her touch stilling. Whomever it was, the change was instant; she uncoiled, her grip loose around him. Softly, she said, "He can't go back in there." No matter how quiet she was, her words were firm.

"You know what it will look like," came a soft voice, low, masculine. "With what happened--"

"This is the only way," she insisted. "Please." A word she hadn't said in any fashion around Waver. "I'll handle it."

Silence lingered. Then, a sigh from the man at the door. "All right. I'll speak to them. What comes after will be your responsibility." Against Waver, Devyn nodded, her hand stroking him once more.