That's a vulnerable thing to admit. At least, it seems that way to her. She isn't in the habit of making that kind of confession — something that might appear like sentiment or weakness. Maybe doing the military's dirty work all these years has hardened something in her. Or maybe it's just the burden of leadership. Not that any of it really matters now. The world feels like it's falling apart. And even if she thought she could front with him right now, he's still holding her shivering, aching body against his — taking care of her in the most vulnerable state she's been in for as long as she can properly remember.

"You're not alone," she finally mutters in response.

Carefully, she pulls away a little, just enough to look at him.

"Hate to admit it, but you probably saved my life. So I owe you. At least for now."