Reed knew this was a serious conversation and that he should be very concerned about how concerned other people would be with the fact he was alive-- but he was far too drunk with the sheer joy of being home, with his wife, to worry about anyone or anything else.
"Clearly you've never tried to crush a rubber band." Reed teased, gently, squeezing her hand and giving a soft tug to pull her back onto the couch with him.
He wrapped his arms around her four times, cradling her close to him and looking down at her with his heart in his throat. He hated to see her upset for any reason- but particularly when he was the cause of her pain. "Susan, I would never willingly stay away from you. You, this," he said, nodding vaguely to the Baxter Building and all the family and friends it housed, "is what I live for, darling. You, Susan."
Reed paused for a moment, his tired expression turning thoughtful and apprehensive as he stared into the middle distance, "The things that... what happened to me, out there..." he stopped, trying to make his exhausted brain find the right words, "I wouldn't have made it back if it wasn't for knowing that you were here. Now, being here, home, with you? The rest of what happens ceases to be a burden-- does that make any sense at all?" He wondered outloud, fairly certain that he wasn't actually making logical sense anymore.