North goes still. Theta does too, for a moment, both of them bewildered and working to parse what exactly is happening here. North blinks at York and, without talking his eyes from him, asks-

"Theta?" A beat. "How long was I out for?"

He projects tentatively, a quick flicker into being close to North, tucked near the hollow at the small of his back. "Um. Eleven hours. And nine minutes."

Yeah. That does nothing to answer why York is sitting in front of him looking several hard years older than when he'd last seen him before fleeing the ship.