Her movements were subtle, gripping his hand, but scooting closer. She presses her face into his shoulder, and doesn't move. It's not fair, they worked so hard, they tried so hard, they suffered and suffered, mauled by tanks and witches and everything the Green Flu could throw at them, ran across a bridge that was being bombed, dodging a horde and a tank and everything else--To end up here. Had they not earned rest? Had they not earned freedom from fear?

Her tears are silent, only her shoulders shaking as she took raspy breaths, only the dampness in his shoulder. There were few she trusted her tears to, and she would keep them as private as possible. His words don't help, though she knows they were meant to. But she can't decide which is worse--The idea of being stuck in some never ending death match, or watching Nick and Ellis have to be stuck there, while she rests easy. No, that would be worse. All or nothing.

Once she can speak, she does so, though her voice is shaking more than she would like. "I'd rather be in that arena, than in here, without you, Ellis."