Essentially, Fred was trying to process things the only way she really could currently – treat it like it was a math problem to solve, because math was comforting and numbers didn’t call you stupid or put collars on you. She couldn’t think about the apocalypse stuff now, or the terror that threatened to claw its way into her mind from outside where it crept. This place wasn’t safe, no where seemed to be safe – not even the Hyperion if she could be stolen across time and space and brought here. At least Angel was there. He’d save her, right? Somehow.
Her face was very serious as she met his eyes, and she shook her head, “There’s always a pattern, a rhyme and a reason to everything, even madness. Randomness doesn’t exist – or if it does, it can’t exist here, not here because that would make everything bad and worse, so it can’t be random, Angel. It can’t be.” If it was random, Fred wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it and was afraid she’d break even further. “Now it’s possible that maybe there was some kind of a different p-portal…different from how I – we –went through before. It’s closer to being an Einstein-Rosen bridge, really, but even that would shift reality around itself, but nothing at all seemed to be disturbed where I showed up here, but something should have happened to reality for any of this to happen.” Her hands were shaking, and she set the paper and pen on the edge of the chair’s arm, then shifted to sit on her hands in an effort to hide that fact.