She's still half-expecting some sort of rejection, or at least a hesitation. He saw her sink her teeth into someone. Even if the man deserved it, even if it was just a dream, how can he reach for her and pull her close like she's a normal little girl? She can't even bring herself to return the gesture, too ashamed - and too clearly remembering how battered and broken he'd been in the nightmare. What if she hurts him?

No. She won't let herself.

When he pulls back a little, she meets his gaze, her expression drawn and solemn. If he's trying to comfort her, it's not working very well. "But he's real," she says. "He's the one who hurt you before." Lifting a hand, she brushes her fingertips over one of the fading burns (careful, controlled, not hurting, not hurting), a tight frown on her face. How safe can she be if her guardian is in danger? What is her safety even worth if something happens to Aziraphale?