He never thought any of the school yard fights or the ones everywhere else in the streets were bad enough for her death, though her medical conditions made it debatable actually. He had never wanted her to fail, but he knew that he couldn't always be there to save her either and she had to make her point clear. He would always step in when things got bad enough, but he let her have her swings when he could. "Well, what are friends for if not to pick you up after a fight?"

He shifted his arm up so that she could turn without hindrance, though her new strength made him wonder if she could actually overpower him now. He settled his arm back around her waist, but he allowed his fingers to caress the small of her back though her clothing and gave her a little smile. He knew she knew he wasn't talking, that he wasn't telling how his muscles burned and ached in his body, how his guts occasionally felt like they'd turn to ice at any moment. There was no reason to concern her; he had made the thirty mile walk back through hostile territory. "Decent, no. Food, probably. You don't need to baby-sit me; I'm a big boy and don't worry about me, okay? I'm alive and that's all thanks to you." Because it was easier to turn the conversation about her than face some unknown factor.