"Yes." Normally he might add some sort of quip, or remarked on the fact that he can guess Francis may not have slept as well, as if their situations had been reversed James can't imagine he would've gotten much sleep himself. But although he certainly feels clearer than he had the night before, that's an incredibly low bar, and he finds now that he's laying down again he has little desire to spend much more energy than he has to.

But that doesn't stop him from lifting the hand closest to Francis, reaching out the small distance between them, and letting his hand drop so as to rap his knuckles gently against Francis' shoulder. It's an awkward, uncoordinated motion, but that's hardly the point; what matters is that they're both here, and that the contact is possible at all.

"There's nothing pressing to be done this morning?" James, like Francis, asks the question more just to talk than anything else, though he does wonder about the general... Urgency, perhaps is a good word, of life in this place.