Meredith closes her eyes, shaking her head. "Don't say that," she murmurs, holding onto him a little tighter, less afraid that he'll vanish than that she'll be the one to go, if she doesn't cling to him for all she's worth, however much that is. It's only terrifying because, when he says it, she knows it's the same for her — if she loses him, what's the point now? Except it's not an if, it's a question of when, and the dull, throbbing pain in her ribs is a reminder of how close she came to leaving him. "You won't."