[She can't feel her face, so there's no way to tell if she's crying, and there's a dull thud by their feet, and he looks terrible, he looked so upset to see her. He looks really really bad and she just needs to keep him here for a while, at least until the chill from the outdoors bleeds out of him and into her apartment and into her bones through four layers of material and until his arms finally come up and he's holding her too and they're crushed together like this. And then her arms are malfunctioning, she can't actually let him go ever again, so they're all just going to have to get used to living this way with no arms and four legs and her chin digging into his shoulder and his beard scratching softly against her neck.]

You're always in trouble, Bruce. [And, okay, with the way her voice sounds, she's definitely crying. She can't do that now, she needs to take care of this, she needs to get things sorted and then she can start hyperventilating. This is really not a good time for it.] No one's... No one's coming after you? You're safe? I have [to take a moment to accept that I'm just going to be disgustingly liquid on you or let go so you're just going to have to deal with it too] a bag. Some stuff. A c-car. We can get out of here.