She's grinning widely, and he shifts slightly, and her hand jerks and she gasps, and drops her sword. He feels it slice through skin, her hands are on the area. There should be a wound, but he feels fine. Her hand meets smooth skin.
"I suppose since this is your mind, if you do not want to see me harmed, I will not be. Thus, I am fine. Although I would prefer my neck in one piece, for future reference." He says, and her hands move from his throat to around his back, she was so scared she had hurt him.
"It's okay, you're okay, I'm okay. It's okay. We're both okay." The words are a familiar quick murmur. He used to do this, when they were training. He had always said it in a crushing hug, his chin on her shoulder, so many times. She can't count them all. She calms her breathing. It's familiar. The swords disappear.
"Are you sure?" She can't remember how many times she has asked that.
"I am certain." He assures her, they're following their old script, it's all so comforting. She closes her eyes, and he feels the ground shift under their feet.
She opens her eyes, startled. Oh no. They're in his room, maybe if she just shoves him out the door and moves he won't notice. But he's always been observant.
"This is my room." He says, carefully looking at the shelves full of boxed memories. He wants her to be his personal organizer when she wakes up, this is fantastic. There are boxes with labels he hadn't expected, there are labels for when she's undaggered him, there's a shelf for hugs and times where she only remembers his voice. It's amazing. He wonders what his mind palace would look like-he won't make one. He spends too much time in Elena's to have the time to make his own.
She's bright red, evidently, she can blush in here. He gives a few more seconds of looking, the boxes of memories committed to his memory, and she suggests they leave. A little box appears, and floats by his face. He takes a step back to avoid touching it. She carefully grabs it, and he watches her put it in the injured shelf, he hears how he sounded when she had to take a handful of bullets out of his back. She shuts the box abruptly, and seals it. He opens the door wordlessly. He waits until she's carefully shut the door to ask if she would consider helping him make his own mind palace. She bites her lip, and he knows she's trying to think, it's the only time he ever sees her do that.
"It's your head. All of your memories. Are you sure you want me in there?" She wonders. It's a huge act of trust, she won't hold it against him if he rethinks it and says no. He nods.
"I do. I trust you." It's not a declaration, but a reminder.
Something bursts in her chest, a feeling floods her lungs. She can't speak.