[ Silence echoes out of the bathroom. Buffy pulls the door back open before she's even got her shirt buttoned. She stares out at him, slack-jawed in disbelief. A moment passes, and she seems to accept the facts, her gaze searching over the room, then dropping. She takes a moment to compose herself, then slowly walks out of the bathroom, hands raising to start thumbing buttons through their coordinating holes.

It takes her a few buttons to figure out what she wants to say. ] For how long? You're not— Des, look, I understand if this spooked you. It scares the hell out of me too. Finnick especially. But you can't just … We need you.