Alex couldn't help it: his first thought jumped to staring at Doctor Dennett Norton for the first time, then seeing his reflection in the mirror. Seeing a head, lungs, one hand attached to a metal rod. Not much left of his body left and knowing it couldn't even be called a body at this point. The memory boiled off him in tendrils, more vivid than even the memory of shooting her only a few minutes ago.

No. He didn't want to.

His hand had continued to squeeze against her thigh, crushing body armor to skin and muscle and now he was starting to lift, trying to drag her off by sheer force...and unlike her, he couldn't get tired, couldn't feel fatigue weakening muscles he didn't have.