For as much as Sara tells people, she might be all but heartless, it's moments like this her own heart reminds her, violently, that it really still is in there. For herself, just as much as it more loudly and oftener turns up for her people. When it gives a twisted whine of sympathy and understanding, guilt and responsibility over Oliver's hand catching her arm and squeezing it gently.

Out of the norm. Not something he did a week ago. Because a week ago, on both their Earth and another Earth Oliver knew what this Oliver doesn't, hasn't, except for less than three minutes: that she's alive, and not dead. It makes her want to explain, and even more torn in two about why she knows, deep in her bones, she shouldn't.


The words threaten at her mouth, despite logic, almost making her lips quiver, and she just gives him, a nod.

Keeping it and herself at only, "I'll be here."