Mello let the words wash over him without registering them, the tone soft and soothing, too incoherent at the moment to even care whose voice it was and simply letting the gentle manner of the words calm him. His eyes were half-open and he could see the flutter of shadows, Sephiroth's hands moving over his face and then his body. There was a warmth seeping into his skin that he didn't realize was healing yet, and it felt good, or maybe that was still the pain. He couldn't tell. Everything hurt, and his skin felt so hot.