"You’re Zaeed goddamn Massani and you’re afraid to live." If her voice was cold, it wasn’t meant to be. In some ways he put a voice to the fear she’d had long after some poor bastard pulled her out of exploded rubble and in other ways it was as alien to her as the shores of Kahje. She squeezed his hand in return.
"If it’s one thing I know, its that none of us have tomorrow. And if you end up as a happy rusted out fool with a dog, friends and stories to tell… well… You’ve won. That’s the very most any of us can ask for in life.
"And if some rookie gets a lucky shot, good for him. You went down with your boots on. There’s pride in that." She stroked his cheek and sighed sadly.
"I don’t mean to sound like I’m trying to fix you, Zae. I just want you to know that there’s enough danger in the damn galaxy that your end will find you. You don’t have to look for it."
Zaeed was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. It was rare that he'd open up like this as much as he had--and to be completely honest with himself, his thoughts were all over the place. He'd never been afraid of dying, not since he was some young kid fighting through a hoard of batarians for his mother, and certainly not now. But the only thing he'd ever been afraid of had already happened--he'd gotten attached. Which was what he had been trying to avoid doing for so long. He had Tora now, their friendship, romance, whatever the hell it was. Hell, now he'd even be sad to lose that stupid dog. He almost laughed at himself.
But, nevertheless, he pulled himself from his thoughts and patted Tora's hand. "You're right. S'pose whatever happens, happens. Won't do any use giving in now, will it." He stood, then, letting go of her. "You hurry up an' get better, you know. Won't do any use with you sitting around in this hellhole either. Worse than prison, it is."
