"It's not as bad as it looks," he says, voice distant, which is true because actually it is worse than it looks. Never quite sure how he appears to other people, he is at least aware that he tends to inspire a lot of concerned looks. Those aren't thoughts and feelings and visions he's going to get out of his head anytime soon and for a moment he is actually grateful that he only dreams about things that were once true -- there's no room for embellishment in his nightmares.

The truth is bad enough.

"I'm fine. I've seen worse, anyway." And Wolfgang is aware that this is only going to get worse -- that whatever is responsible for this is capable of much more than they've already seen, and that this is just a warm-up. What other choice is there, though? He doesn't trust the establishment and something being awful and hard is not going to deter him anymore, and when he glances at her there's a certain steeliness in his sad, tired eyes.

If he's not fine, he will make himself be fine as long as he needs to be.

"What's the plan, then?"