Silas wanted to ask if she didn’t think he would put two and two together when he caught sight of Bea, that he wouldn’t worry more about Rae because of that. But he got it, sort of, he had been ticked about the recon, and things were still, they didn’t always know what the other was thinking, so he couldn’t blame Rae for doing what she did. But at least now it felt resolved, or closer to being normal again. He had reacted in the way he felt most comfortable, by giving her space when she didn’t find him, and she had been afraid of his reaction to her injuries. Afraid of losing whatever they had.
Her murmured thanks released more of the tension in his body. He was still ticked that she’d been injured, was still upset about the Bedford group, but seeing her, hearing her, it did a lot to help his state of mind.
There was hesitance to see the rest of her injuries when she confirmed there was more. The tension that had been settling down seemed to be boiling back up inside of him and taking hold with every new injury that she revealed. Bite marks, wrist braces, and scrapes. “Rae,” he muttered, everything thing he couldn’t bring himself to voice apparent in the tension of his jaw. “If I ever see those men…” he trailed off, balling his fists unconsciously, working hard to keep the anger under control. God, she was lucky she made it out. Even being immune, taking on zombies like that could still result in death. All he wanted was to make sure that she was safe.
“That sounds familiar,” he said wryly. Hadn’t he used phrases similar to that when he’d been injured? ‘I’m okay, I’ve seen worse.’ Or ‘I’ll live through it’ were popular with him. He felt like shit for brushing off his injuries, for having treated them like they were nothing when Rae had asked about them. Granted, they hadn’t been caused by the infected, other than the broken wrist. But that cast was coming off soon and he was beyond grateful for it.
Without thought he pulled her back into an embrace and buried his nose in her hair. “Hearing that shit doesn’t help,” he admitted, it wasn’t his intention to make her feel worse, but he wanted to be honest. “Doesn’t make me feel better that they probably walked away from it either.” Meant they were still out there with the possibility to harm other looters from the compound. Or abduct. “It’s not fucking safe for anyone.” He stepped back so he could look at her face.
“Could you promise me,” he started, worried about even making the request. “Promise me that you won’t go out unless you have to?” That sounded reasonable he thought, better than what he really wanted to ask. But asking her to stay in the compound would be unfair, even he knew that. Even if it was exactly what he wanted to do, because then she would be safe and he wouldn’t have to worry about losing her to idiot men or the infected or anything else. “Please.”