[She lets him have his outburst, lets him be angry if that's what he needs to be. There's not much she can say to convince him to not have that moment. And honestly, she needs to hear it as much as he does. She can't just say a few words and make this better for him. It's going to take time.]

You're still here, aren't you?

[And if she knows him as well as the thinks she does, she knows that he's going to kill himself to try and make it up to everyone. He'll do whatever it takes to make things better.

Her forehead nuzzles against his, bumping the tips of their noses together in the process.]

Strength shows itself in different ways. Sometimes it's quiet and afraid. But surviving is a strength.

[She sounds more and more doubtful and quiet as she speaks, until she's left trailing off and sounding a bit hopeless. It's hard to tell if he's angry at her, or simply angry at himself and what's happened. She thinks that maybe it would be easier if she were cross with him. If she blamed him for her broken arm, blamed him for her not being able to remember how it happened until recently.

But no matter how she tries, she can't find blame to put on him. Not when she knows he'll be blaming and loathing himself for as long as he remembers what happened on that train.

She recalls the things the precursors had said to her before going for her throat. About her crying, about her clinginess. A bit of doubt starts to creep in, wondering how much of that was their words and how much was possibly coming from Newt's own mind.

She bites at her lip and shakes her head. But she doesn't pull away.]