Stan nudges his shoulder in acknowledgement. It's a shitty situation, and the place where they stop isn't as bad as the rest of it. The little camp fills him with warring feelings of worry and comfort-- he doesn't want either of them to have to be here, but Will knows how to do this.

He wraps his arms around Will as he's tugged near, cradling the back of his head with one hand, eyes blurring hot and wet. "You're not lost," he promises, even if he doesn't exactly have control over the situation. "I wouldn't have given up looking, I swear. And I know I'd have had help. This place really sucks, but I'm so fucking glad I found you. Or you found me."