[ The sad reality is the disconnect between them and their missions drives a wedge. Her empathy is there, her concern and her feelings – but she doesn't understand the reality of risking well-being on a regular basis. She feels like she's not even in the same league as him – she's a thief, not some superhero. That's the difference. The Metaverse has its own sense of serious risks, sure – but they work in the shadows. Behind the scenes. Tim's pursuit brought him here, bloodied and sore and she isn't sure how she feels seeing him in this state.

Fear, of course, that he'd done something that would cause serious damage. Fear that he would not be so lucky next time.

She's angry that he didn't have back-up, that she couldn't do more...

And she's sad that she feels conflicted. He didn't need that right now.

They've dealt with Palaces and dealt with the near corruption of a heart – how dangerous it can be, but Ann wishes he could see that he didn't need to do this alone. Even then, was his life worth the risk?

Her eyes can't look at him just yet when he speaks. Each word like a realization that she isn't sure if she's one part worried or one part angry he shows up after nearly throwing himself on a cross for some greater good. Ann's optimistic, she's heroic – but she tries not to be foolish. That fear bubbles up when he asks about the bandages and she waves him like some white flag.

He listens to her, not just her words but her expressions – and she's thankful. She forces a small smile when their eyes meet and she tries to shoulder it. Anything he needed, even without her experience, she does. Bandages that needed to wrap, pressure on certain points, and the company she's not sure if she's giving him during all of this... She tries. ]

If you're scared of losing people... how do you think others feel? This – this terrifies me. What if I showed up like this on your balcony, Tim...?

[ And she fumbles: ]

I'm not trying to guilt you, I'm sorry —