( No, he hadn't been seeking reassurance— but that's all the more reason to give it, in her humble opinion. To finally speak the words she's held onto all these years, growing astringent as they steeped in her chest too long. It had been too late to say them for six years, yet here he stands, quite literally tethered to her by "destiny". So out they come.

And it makes him smile. A genuine one, creasing the corners of his mouth, and she gives him another little squeeze as she mirrors the same.

See? You're not so bad, Jack Morrison. And he's far from the worst company she could have here. She's glad for him. She's less glad that that smile was so short-lived, giving her cause to dread what comes out of his mouth next, though he delivers it evenly enough.

He eases the sting of it with his hand at her shoulder, warm and rough even as he squeezes her with care, and she reaches up to cover it in an appreciative little pat without trapping it there. )

I see. And in your time here, have those who brought us here seemed trustworthy...?

( The followup, though... Well, it gets a wry little smile out of her even as her brows pinch, because "not ready to tell you" sounds an awful lot like "didn't know if I could trust you". )

I should have known that had been you. You don't need to apologize to me, Jack. I understand. It hadn't been safe for you for so long.