Ed's hand slides to cup the back of Oswald's neck, thumb rubbing the short hair at the nape and cheek coming down to rest on the top of his head.

Usually, he has words for everything, but he doesn't feel a need for them right now. He's under no illusions; things are not fixed, nor necessarily going to be fine from here on in. Oswald is still prickly and violent. Ed is still- Ed.

He squeezes and relaxes, letting Oswald's weight sink against him.

It's enough for now.