He can't help himself, and so he doesn't even try. He lurches towards her and throws his arms around her, heedless of the danger, and holds her hard enough to lift her. It's as if he's trying to press her into him, to absorb her now so that she can never be taken from him again.

"Told you I'd find you. Now I just gotta find a mic to drop about it," he whispers into her hair, the dark short fuzz of it. For this dizzying instant, he can forget they're in a war zone, that any moment now they may be blown to pieces, their locations revealed by the mirror maze.

Then it snaps back in with the smell of sweat and blood and gunpowder. "We gotta bounce."