[ she's already moving to his bed before he can even answer but he gestures with an arm anyway as a sort of silent be my guest, because he doesn't really care one way or another where she decides to sit. either way, it's not like he's going to be using the bed for sleep again any time soon. he won't necessarily be a grouch about being woken up either; he's used to getting little rest.

the shift in topic isn't where kovacs expects this to go, but only because no one else has bothered speaking about an'alya. he didn't know her, not before seeing her lying there upon the floor facing cheri's wrath, but it isn't as if he didn't feel for her in that moment.

he brings a cigarette into his mouth, flicking a lighter to burn the end. ]

I saw her right when it happened. Heard them talking through it. [ he inhales, breathing in the smoke that burns through the stick. ] They were in a war long before we got there. An'alya knew what she was in for.

[ it's not to make alina feel better or worse. eyes drifting, kovacs thinks of the woman dying upon that floor, the twists to her body that he was ready to face himself in that moment. ]

Death's at the end of the line for all of us. [ well — ] Most of us.