Jo shook her head, not even sure there were words for that. That was fucked up. Beyond fucked up. Someone to heal you, but someone to not even give a fuck about the war that you were currently fighting in, possibly even in your name or for your planet. It wasn't like she'd ever had the best ringside childhood seat for thinking mercy on the fallen was ever a thing that wasn't just in song, but that.

That was just.....fucked. That was the only word for it.

If she was -- If they were -- If so many years hadn't -- and this wasn't.
There's this urge, shivers in her skin to nudge his shoulder, when she says the word. But she doesn't.

It's just the words, and the oddness of the want somewhere in her chest. Long dormant, but not asleep. "Sorry."