Oh, she wasn't expecting him to almost shrink in on himself like that. To hide his face. She's seen him a lot of ways over the years, but never this disjointed. There's always been a small part of her that was angry that he sacrificed himself to let her get out, but it's hard to hold on to that spark, seeing him like this. It cost him every day. It's still costing him.

She should've run right back in.

"Hey." She leans onto the table and reaches out, running her hand up his arm. She wants to run her fingers through his hair like she used to, sit in his lap and whisper in his ear. But she's worried about pushing too hard, tipping him over the edge. Maybe she should have waited longer before contacting him. Her hand slides slowly up his forearm, giving him plenty of time to pull back if he wants to. But if he doesn't, she'll let her fingertips trace lightly over the back of his hand.

"I'm glad he kept me alive too. I would've hated it if I never saw you again. What are you thinking about?"