[ Though her instinct is to hide behind whatever she can to lessen the accountability of her role in his journey, his face is raw and open, and she cannot slip away from the weight of his acknowledgment. In answer, her gaze drops, but it only makes her aware of the small space between them, fixes her attention on the matching cadence of the movements against his wrist and the intonation of his voice.

Her hand reaches out as he finishes to cover his, but his palm moves to the floor just as quickly and she shrinks back, catching herself mid-motion and curling her hand into a fist. Turning her head, she searches the hallways, trying to sift through the silence for cries, but to no avail. The hollow silence presses down on her eardrums, crushing in its emptiness.

A tremulous shake of her head answers him. This time, when she reaches for his hand, she seizes it in a clasp that readies her to pull him onto his feet. ]

Lead the way. [ She hefts the burden of his heart off her shoulders only then, and they loosen as she pulls him to stand, allowing her to stare up at him with fresh eyes. The difference it makes reveals that she had been carrying him on her back since long before they collapsed to that dirt in Corellia. ] Listen to your fear, but don't let it command you. It gives voice to the Dark Side.

[ She will not tell him to shut it out, for she has never shut it out. Only tempered it, turning it to steel for her to wield and wear in her fight against the darkness, against the First Order. ]

What do you hear?