As Percy held her close, Marguerite nestled against him, idly taking his hand and interlacing their fingers. Sometimes words weren't necessary. What was needed was verification that she was in fact alive. She hadn't died prematurely. There had been some scares in the past month between the pneumonia, relapse of the pneumonia, the attack at the theatre and then attack on the medbay, but she was on the mend again and very much alive. So for now, that should hopefully be enough. They couldn't predict what the future would bring, especially here, so Marguerite's belief of living life and staying in the moment was even more pertinent.
"Neither did I."
Resting her chin against Percy's chest, the petite actress looked up to her husband, "Though we already did state that this version got both of us very wrong and the events really do not add up at all"
It was all she could think of at the moment, really. She knew that Percy wouldn't react that closed off. True, there had been no time in France for a reunion of sorts, too lost in the fight against Chauvelin, but they had discussed much since their reunion in Lawrence. Which meant she knew that Percy wouldn't be so closed off, she knew how much he loved her, that he had never stopped and he knew that she loved him with every fiber of her being, knew that he was her life. Knew how deeply his 'death' had affected her, that she had only recently stopped being convinced he was a dream and she would wake up alone again.
No. She hadn't moved on. She had done the best she could, but at night, she hadn't and as she knew his feelings ran just as deeply as hers, she knew that it would take far longer than that Percy had to even pretend to move on.
"A man who was not even based upon you is more you than that version was."
That man being Patrick Jane from the show the Mentalist they had seen on and off.