[ Rex, of course, doesn't let go of her. He keeps her pressed up against the wall, forearm digging into her chest, knuckles still white where he's clutching onto the antidote for dear life. It feels a little wrong - he should be helping her when she's succumbing to something that feels so violent, so contrary to everything he knows about her, the way she should be like, how invincible she's always seemed - but he's no fool.
He doesn't let relief sink in yet. He won't until they're well and truly in the clear. Not if she confirms that she's fine. Not if they get out of here. And not if they get on the ship. No, he'll only relax days from now, when he knows for a fact that it's not lingering in her system, that it hasn't done anything worse.
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He doesn't let relief sink in yet. He won't until they're well and truly in the clear. Not if she confirms that she's fine. Not if they get out of here. And not if they get on the ship. No, he'll only relax days from now, when he knows for a fact that it's not lingering in her system, that it hasn't done anything worse.
But for now, he wants the single success. ]
You with me again, Andy?