He closes the distance - slowly, carefully, in part because he knows she's always been a suspicious person, but he wants to savor this. He doesn't immediately reply, instead reaching up to her helmet and finger then latches free. He's intimately familiar with this armor now, having worn it himself for years.

"There are worse fates than death." His voice is quiet and careful, in part a commentary on her statement, and in part hard truth about the path he traveled without her. "God, Connie, I've missed you, so much."