Dorian's face is pure deer in the headlights. He came back. Toby came back. He had to mean that he came back to life in their world, because how would he know where Dorian's apartment is here? Which was absolutely wonderful...but absolutely worrying. How on earth could the dead come back to life? And, more importantly, did Toby come back to life the same way he had...Dorian hoped not. He knew that eventually he would have to pay for the deal he made, that 'fire escape' that saved him from the portrait. Toby shouldn't have to suffer that.

But as he kept talking, Dorian's face grew paler and paler. The first part he could believe. He had absolutely no idea how he would have dealt with Toby coming back to life back home—the fact that there was precedent here, the fact that he came back to life himself, was the only thing keeping Dorian from utterly freaking out. But his other words. The deadness of his eyes, the coldness of his flesh...if he did say those words, what drove him to say them in the first place? And what could he do to make amends?

"Toby," he murmured, looking at the man, pleading tone in his voice. "You've got to believe me when I say that I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. You're...you're dead, back home. I watched it happen. We sat together as the sun rose." There's no denying the heart's desire bit, though. Even now, after being in this brave new world for coming up close to a year, he would drop everything and everyone in a heartbeat if Toby were to show up. Or, in this case, when Toby showed up.

It's Dorian's turn to try to regain composure, taking a deep breath as he continues to talk, continues to plead. "I don't remember because for me there's nothing to remember. When I came here from home, you were still dead."