Sarah had never asked the 'how' of his survival of the explosion, because the explosion was a topic on his terms. She'd always taken the position that what she learned about him would come from him – barring the Peter stories from Nathan and Heidi, embarrassing to simply cute, so mostly this position covered the significant things in his life – and so she had tried to, for the most part, set aside anything read during the truth epidemic that had been in public. But now she knew another piece of that puzzle.
She closed her eyes, pressing closer still as he explained what once had been the exception, knowing the telling was difficult from his hesitation in words and his slight movements. She also know what it meant, that he knew this from experience, as how else would he know? How many times had he died before this? Even if she hadn't known him then, she still hurt for him for those unknown times. No wonder he had tried to brush it off as he had, this wasn't new to him. And Wolverine. X-Men comics hadn't been her geeky strong suit, but she knew enough and suddenly she wondered why she hadn't realized this sooner. It didn't take a great leap of logic to come to the conclusion after fitting all the pieces together.
"You can't ever die," she breathed, the hand near his neck not clenching but the one cradling his jaw, fingers formerly still moving in his hair, drew him closer, their foreheads once more touching. Even that revelation, that the man she loved was essentially immortal, had her drawing him closer rather than pushing him away for space. She did need to process it, but it needed to be with him still there, just as she always needed him. Nothing could change that feeling.