It doesn't make it any easier to hear her say it out loud again. It makes it a hundred times worse. Death is always around every corner for them, back home. It's accepted as an inevitability- that every day you wake up and draw breath is a small miracle in itself. But knowing it- having actually died and lived to tell about it...that's something else. He's not equipped to even start dealing with that.

"I'm absolutely not okay."

He isn't going to lie to her, she'll see right through it and it'll only hurt her worse. He's still fighting to keep it together, but he can feel it all bumbling and thrashing around his head and he doesn't know how to deal with it without fucking imploding in on himself. When he speaks again, it's with a waver- real fear. He has to know.

"Did I hurt anyone?"

He's not going to ask if he turned. He knows he did. His hair has dried blood in it and he's pretty sure the outrider didn't make that precise of a shot on him. But he needs to know. He needs to know if anyone else died because of him.