"Hey, listen, listen," he says over the top of her saying she thought she was dead, over the top of her voice cracking, and he moves back in quickly to take her head in his hands, to make her look at him.

Fuck, he doesn't know what to tell her. One minute, he'd been frantically scurrying through the hospital in Salt Lake City, trying to find her, knowing she was laid up on some operating table somewhere, and the next--

Well, they're both here now. Alive. And it don't make any fucking sense but it's a damn sight better than maybe finding her dead on an operating table with her skull fucking drilled open.

He can't bring himself tell her. God, he's just found her, he doesn't know where the hell he is, and he can't bring himself to tell her. About Marlene. About the Fireflies.

He lets her go. Stands tall again, arms dropping by his sides with a sigh. "What?" he asks tiredly.