Leto looked straight into that bright blue light. Remembering standing in shards of glass on a City street, he took a step to the side, to get himself out of the line of fire.
"Are you dead, Oswin?" he asked her, his voice quiet and calm but in no way gentle. It was a serious question, however much he wanted for it to be comforting.
The recollection of his Christmas wish had surfaced at the sight of the bow on that body. The hair. He'd asked Oswin, once, what she looked like. Brown hair. Brown eyes. The body seemed to have dark hair, but in the dimness of his apartment, it was difficult to know if it were brown or some other shade.
He didn't remove his attention from Oswin for a micron. He waited for her response. Waited for anything. And was ready for it.