[She. Doesn't know how to take that. It sounds scary as hell, but nine years is pretty close on half her life. Is it different for nations? Does that amount of time seem shorter when there's so much more? So for a long beat she just watches him, keeps her hand soft against his face.]

I can't pretend I know what that means. I don't get a lot of that stuff, I just don't have anything to compare it to. But I do for you. And I know that things only changed between us after the masks arrived.

[A pause, there, and a tense little inhale because this exactly what she's been trying to avoid having to say.]

I'm not scared you won't let me go. I'm scared you'll get better and wonder why the hell you let me in in the first place.