How could he not hug back? It's Tim. He steps back after a moment, hands on Tim's shoulders looking him over. Fuck it was... it was so good to see him and it's been years. Did he ever properly mourn? Right now? He didn't care.

"Bloody Hell," he sighs, before he pulls back to rub his face. Martin isn't much better in terms of cuts and bruising considering he's kept trying to saw his arms off. "Tim, how have you been?"

A pause.

"Don't answer that." He rubs his face again. "It's been... we're in Hell and it's just a mess so it's probably not anything good. Just... it's good to see you."