[ How is it that she can stare down the barrel of a blaster without breaking a sweat, but when Rex asks her these questions, the fight or flight instinct is so strong it's a wonder one of her secondary organs doesn't just burst? Her heart is beating too hard in her chest, and it's not from the effort of getting back to her feet. It isn't her half-numb legs making her feel so heavy. It's... Fuck. ]

I don't — [ Frustration pulls at the volume of her voice. It takes conscious effort to drop the words low again — not that it does much for the heat in her tone. ] I don't want to have something to lose. I don't want to fucking live with it if something happens to one of you and I can't stop it. I don't want to be here alone two hundred years from now clinging to fading memories of what it was like when we were together.

[ She's gotten worked up again. It's not like her — to show so much open, vulnerable emotion all at once. This is different. This... ]

Look at this fucking mess. This is where I'm at, and we've all barely said the words to each other. It terrifies me to think how much more I'll love you in a year. In ten years. In twenty! [ Her voice strains, tight and thin. ] But like an idiot, I still want to be with you. So tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to do about that.