"How am I supposed to do that?" Meredith tries as best she can, she really does, but it's impossible not to see the dangers all around them, the possibilities for irreparable damage. For once, she's glad it's not the same, too grateful for that to let herself use it as an excuse for doubt this time, but it doesn't make the worry stop. She's seen what love did to her mother, to him, what it's done to her; it's unrealistic not to be a little afraid of that and denial only accomplishes so much, only lasts so long. "I'm serious, Sean," she says, and she looks it, watching him closely, brushing her fingers over his cheek again. "Losing you would be bad enough without being scared something might happen to you before you come back to me."