Cosima looks more herself with her glasses back. Granted, she looks very small, wrung out and dirty, but herself all the same. Her arm has been seen to, in all the mess - at Avery's insistence - so the immediate pain of an unsplited fracture is no longer taking up a large chunk of her energy. The lyrium after-effects, however, are a bit more stubborn. At least she's pretty sure everything she's currently seeing is real. She's trying not to think about Maris, or the guard the left bleeding out in their cell, or the men who didn't listen when she begged them to leave her alone.

She can't help glancing over at Ruby more than a little. She missed the horrors of that last battle, and she isn't sorry, but she's still stricken at her friend's state.

Shakily, now and then she whistles snatches of a song that no one listening can probably identify as "Bohemian Rhapsody." It never lasts very long, a weak effort to comfort herself that she abandons as readily as she begins it.