She's looking around blindly now, for anything. A panel, a set of controls, anything. Her eyes land on a screen, fixate on the words. It hurts. It hurts in that same way the first depressive swing he had in their presence hurt, when she didn't know how to help. Her hands clutch at the fabric of his ridiculous suit, trying to process that. He needs to give a fuck, he needs to, because she always had to and it's not fair. He can't come back and just leave her alone.

She blinks back tears and they focus her. His words that blurred come back into clarity.

"Emergency protocols. Yes--yes what are those? And--in Alternian so I can understand you, you know I'm terrible at these things."