[ She's quiet for a second, thoughtful as she absent-mindedly wipes at the blood streaming from her nose and smears it across her face. Nice. ]

I can understand that more than most, I think.

[ She's in danger of slipping back into memories again - echoes of a time when she wished she could throw everything aside and escape the bunker. Of when her only comfort was believing that if she died, Jack would follow soon after. It had been exhausting, like -

Well. Like a living death. And here's Beckett, who's been through too much already. If she trusted her legs to carry her, she'd be trying to hug him despite the consequences. ]

You know I'll stay here with you, if you need me. It's not everything you wanted, but it's something? And there's also - there's the other. The other Angel.

[ Who he must already know about, surely? God, even thinking about her in the vaguest sense is disturbing. ]