He held her hands tightly, his thumbs stroking gently over his skin in lieu of anything more comforting he could do. "Tried, but failed," he pointed out at last, his face close to hers, his eyes holding hers. "And we all say thankya. But I didn't feel anything. If it was going to attack either one of us, I would have thought it might have done better to try and kill the one of us who can die. And who was shooting it at the time."

It was impossible not to sound just a little petulant. The entire point of doing things this way had been to try and spread the load, and he found he was more than a little angry that it had hit her full-force nonetheless. For a moment there, he'd been genuinely scared of losing her. And after everything they'd been through in the last few days...

"You're alive," he said, as much to himself as to her, and squeezed her hands lightly. "Can you stand, or should I carry you?"