It does take him a bit to answer. He's in his room a lot more frequently than usual, thanks to his own insights on his past. For quite some time, he'd assumed that it was just a lack of sleep and well, he'd seen plenty of things that weren't actually there in Neverland and the hotel isn't much different. Sometimes Milah, and sometimes the things that haunted him weren't the ghosts of people that had died, just ones he'd lost. It was easier to ignore when he had been certain it was just a figment of an exhausted mind. Learning that Regina had started seeing them too, though, made it all feel uncomfortably more real.

Milah clung to his shadows like she belonged there, and she always looked angry. He'd spent countless hours trying to figure out why, and sadly? It was incredibly easy to think of possibilities. The way he'd treated her son, the way he'd tarnished her memory, moving on when he'd promised her he never would, the way he'd seen another woman trapped by Rumpelstiltskin and done nothing to help her. It was pretty fucking easy to think of reasons she'd be angry with him, actually, but there was no getting forgiveness from a figment that disappeared the second he looked straight at her.

In the end, Milah didn't have to actually be there for him to feel the weight of his choices.

When he was seeing a figure of a woman three centuries dead, the knock didn't automatically strike him as reality either. In Neverland, he constantly heard knocks on his door, only to get up and wander over and have nothing on the other side. Still, he scrubbed at his weary face and rose to get it anyway. It took a ridiculously long stretch for him to actually make sense of who was there, overtired brain working a little too hard. "Baelfire?" He couldn't quite imagine what the boy needed, but his immediate inquiry was, "Something amiss?"

He'd actually appreciate the sky falling right about now, it'd give him something to distract himself with.