He would be right. She was shaken. More than she had been in a very long time. As the door slid shut behind them she sank down onto the nearest available resting surface. She’d come so very close to becoming one with the Force. To dying in his arms... and it was proving to be something she couldn’t easily brush off. Ignore. No matter how... un-Jedi-like that might be. That she’d been in that bacta tank for an unknown amount of time, and didn’t know how their mission had ended, only made things worse.

But they were alive. And that counted for something. Meant more than her unsteadiness. Her disconcertedness. She looked up at him, blue eyes unnerved, haunted. “I’m alive. Beyond that, I... I’m not sure.” It was an honest admission; she couldn’t bring herself to do otherwise. But telling him how she was, aloud, putting that into words wasn’t something she was sure she could do. Even if he could sense it.

She had almost died. And he had almost had to watch her. She was unnerved, and confused, and rattled. There had been danger before. There had been dangerous situations that had been difficult to get out of. It wasn’t something Jedi were strangers to.

But this was different.