"That's my question to you. I can fix her, but she might scream. Cause a fuss. Tell everyone what a cunt you were, go after revenge ... it's a hassle, man" There's a faint note of complaint in his voice. He hates it when people ruin his image.

A sigh, thinking of Murphy promising to keep him in check. Of House whose devotion to life was so intense he'd actively worked to cure the Duchess. Jem telling him to maybe think a bit about his decisions, be a little more human, and a little less inconvenient. He doesn't really care what answer Armand ends up giving: he pushes all that blood back into her and starts the engine back up like he's revving a tricky lawnmower, clicking all the processes back into place and finally sealing up the neck wound, though she'll have a scar. Unconscious, dehydrated, but alive.

It feels good. To work miracles, to really exert himself again. He's not back to full strength but he can feel that the monster and the Duchess and the absence of Alecto aren't working to actively inhibit him anymore. It's nice, like a long stretch or a hard workout. He wipes a little necromantic blood sweat off his forehead, and turns to leave Armand with the consequences of his own actions and find a drink that isn't in jello form.