This time Enoch does raise his head fully, to look Beckett in the eyes. His own are still reddened from crying, widened with hope as his words sink in. I won't leave you. It's all he ever needs to hear, and some part of him just pulling itself back into place recognizes it again as his counterpart to Beckett's own transformative phrase wake up. The words that changed it all, forever.

A smile crosses his face, weakly relieved and then truly warm. He wraps his arms around Beckett completely, straightening his cramping shoulders to rest his head against the side of the other's own. He's weeping again, and at a loss for words, but this time, it's not distress.

Right now, for this moment, the pain is lifted. For this moment, he's happy. His own brain may work to undo it in short order, but these beacons in the dark that are his closest and dearest forever, they are precious.