Do you remember, remember;

"Oh I remember, Mord." His tone was unamused, dry. Al hadn't planned to even pretend to be his jovial old self, not for another six months of hermit behaivor or so. It was like waking up a brown bear from its winter sleep. And it didn't wanna.

But there was Lasair. And no matter how hard his head pounded, how angry he was with the world and all loss he'd suffered before, something in him stirred. He had adored Lasair and her sharp ways, and she deserved none of his current mood.
"Corruption issues?" The eye was full-focus on Mord now, as if he was about to interview him right here right now. "I- yes, right. Sure. Come in." This was better discussed outside of the cold.

With those words it was if the mist clouding the view towards the mansion cleared. Where there had been trees before now stood an old, decrepit building that looked like it was going to fall apart with one gust of wind a little stronger than average.
The door did not swing open with it's usual enthosiasm. Even better, it took a little bit before Al even made his way there, mask crooked on his face when he did open.
"Ah apologies Mord, do come in. Don't worry about me, I've gotten a little roughed up."
That was one way to describe his mental state. He stood aside to let Mord in, taking the opportunity as he passed by to take a good look at Lasair. And here he thought he'd been having a hard time.

"What happened to her?" Al finally questioned, closing the door behind himself and Mord, leading the man to the room he'd been in before. Perhaps the last room in the building that didn't look like it was close to falling apart, the walls lined with old books and carpets covering the floor. There were various mismatched chairs, obviously just collected over the years, and a fainting couch he might've been passed out on for more than a few days. "Are you asking me to hide her?" Al questioned, recalling what Mord had said while still outside.