Johnny rests his forehead against the wall, and the pull slows and stops, just allows him to hover in limbo, Daniel's hand clamped on his shoulder, blades of wood and rust wrapped around him, just cradling him for a moment.

He looks up at Daniel, and the sharpness has left his eyes, the tension in his face has diminished; he blinks up at him with a dull, defeated expression. The house tangles more pieces of itself up around his back: support beams, he thinks with grim amusement.

"I'm sorry, Daniel," he says quietly, and the moment's up, tension snapped; it drags him in, slow, almost gentle, but inexorable, you're safe here, Johnny, safe and always, always welcome.

The wall closes up behind him, leaving Daniel alone in a cold, sealed room.