She panics for a moment when he first reaches out, breath catching in her throat, terrified and not trusting herself to be so close to him. Somehow he’s able to reach out to her, to open his arms and draw her to him, even knowing what she is now, what Eobard made her, and she doesn’t, she can’t... She’s absolutely terrified that she’ll hurt him, and that would kill her. It would absolutely destroy her.

But she lets him, she lets him draw her into his arms, into an embrace, tense and terrified to be so close. She trusts him implicitly, will always trust him. It’s herself she doesn’t trust. Can’t trust. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Her hands flutter awkwardly for a moment before one settles lightly on his hip. Her other arm curls gently around him. She’s trembling against him, his cheek warm against her hair and she slowly relaxes in his embrace, the soft broken sound she can’t quite choke back muffled against his shoulder. He’s home. No matter what world he’s from, he’s home. He always will be.