It was over. No matter what the rest of the lot would think, Wells included, it was over. Done, with Chicago still in one piece and Ian still somehow standing; miracles happened every night apparently. "Later," he said to Chason's request, knowing it was more of a demand, yes, but deciding just then to be dense. "Let's rest a night on our laurels. Tomorrow will come soon enough." Ian nodded to the man and turned before any protest could come, moving from the dais and through the remaining shards of that ridiculous chair. The others were filing out, thankfully too preoccupied with their own troubles to pay much attention to the prince. Places to go, plots to hammer out, and it at least kept them busy.
Ian crossed the room and took Mary a little forcefully by the hand, worried for a moment that she would protest or another of the Roses would come along or any of a number of things would happen before he could get the both of them out of Elysium. "I know," he muttered in her ear once they were through the door. "Everything you're about to say, I know. Let's just get home, all right?"