He doesn’t try to stop her, instead holding himself so still that it feels like he’s balancing on the edge of a cliff, every muscle taut. He can’t get a full breath against the way his throat tightens and threatens to choke him, but it doesn’t matter.

“All I asked was that you not be reckless,” he squeezes out, low and flat. “I never tried to stop you from doing what you need to do, what you’re good at. Don’t you think I know I’m paranoid? But it’s not fair to you if I use that against you, if I - and now you pull this, like it’s my fault that you’re locking yourself up—-“