That's more than enough for Hythlodaeus. He gasps at seeing Hades freed up a little and feverishly reaches through the bars again - to wrap his arms around his friend, draw him close, feel the feeble warmth of his body (and it makes his heart tighten so, that emaciated frame in his arms), share some of his own body heat.

"Agesandros," he sobs out, clinging desperately, mind flooded with both relief and more despair. "My love..."

He should thank the guard later, some part of him realizes dimly, but that's not important right now. Hades is all he can focus on, wishing desperately that he could simply take his friend away, bring him home, take care of him. Perhaps much later there would be time to speak of the atrocities he'd committed, the hows and whys of it and the ways to deal and atone. But... later, much later, if the king even allows him to live.