Maybe five minutes later there's a light tap on the mostly closed door.

She's pulled herself together by then, more or less.

"Mmh," she acknowledges.

A girl with bright blue hair slips in. "Hi," she says. "I'm 'Chelle. You're...Denice? Right?"

She blinks at the hair, but nods. It's obvious from how she's hunched in on herself that she could badly use a hug, and that she's not very comfortable with the room.

'Chelle considers her briefly. "I- would you like a hug?" she offers, stepping a little closer.

...she doesn't want to cry again, but today is just not a day when she has a choice about that, apparently. She nods.

'Chelle leans in, carefully telegraphing her movements to wrap Denice in a hug.

Denice goes still, when 'Chell hugs her, and then boneless, sobbing outright in her lap.

'Chelle holds her close through it, quietly humming one of the songs her grandmother used to sing to her.

It takes a while for her crying to slow, and even longer for it to stop.

Well. 'Chelle can't think of anywhere more important to be right now.

"Feeling any better?" she asks when Denice stops crying.

"Mrrh," she replies, noncommittally. Things have been... bad... the last while, and she's not recovered, and she's not sure they're going to be better, and she's not sure hoping won't just hurt her. But she does feel better - not good, not okay, but better - almost in spite of herself; she really needed that hug, and that cry.

"...Yeah. That's fair."

She looks around. "So. I figure you'd probably prefer to not have to do the stairs if you don't have to?"

She nods.

"My room next door has a bathroom, figure me and you can swap rooms so you've got that."

She shudders, starts crying again, nods nods nods nods nods....

'Chelle hugs her a little tighter. "We'll do that then. We'll do that. When you're ready."

It doesn't take her as long to calm down, this time. She's exhausted, when she does, but better, less tense, less scared. She murmurs appreciatively - the sound is wrong, for it to be 'thank you', but the tone is there.

"Any time," 'Chelle promises. "Wanna move now?"

She nods, and after a moment she sits up - ungracefully; her arms don't go where she means them to, and that throws her balance off in a way that's a little alarming and a little painful to recover from, but she manages it.

'Chelle looks like she wants to help, but refrains. "You want me to push you through on the walker? It should fit."

She considers, shrugs; tries standing, with the walker for support. It works well enough.

Esca pads ahead of them, shouldering the door fully open, and pokes his nose at the next door along.

'Chelle grins at that. "Follow the dog," she says brightly, but steps forward to handle the part of opening a door that requires opposable thumbs.

She's still not fast, but she's getting the hang of it, a little. She goes.