[ Elena stares at him— what? That can't be right. All of this was making her head hurt. But...she'd asked for it, she had wanted the truth, wanted him to spit it out...and he had. Her breath gets pulled in and held— home. It has so many meanings behind that singular word but if what he's saying is true and it was them, together, and going back to America...

Slowly she reaches up to pull the hood back as she shifts on the bench, gaze only breaking when she blinks. You and me. Did she dare to hope? ]

Like— together-together— you and me. I don't...get it. [ What the hell was so hard about this that she couldn't grasp? She adds then on a soft murmur, throat going tight, ] —why?

[ A harsh swallow. ]

What changed your mind? Wait— [ This is the worst time for this but: ] I don't get hit with another grenade do I?