Rush has succeeded in flattening himself against the wall while Asadi proceeds to swiftly and competently render Durant inert and he experiences a wordless surge of gratitude for whatever series of coincidences were set in place to allow her to come to his aid despite the logistical question of how is it, exactly, she knew he was in desperate need of it.

Witnessing Durant's reaction with the full knowledge of what has specifically just occurred is unbearable and fascinating in equal measure - Rush will have no other opportunity to observe his own incredibly accurate panic-stricken reactions stamped over the features of another, but the subsequent spike of revulsion soon drowns any potential scientific interest. This is too much. This is too similar. It is a part of him that has been harvested, torn out of his head and displaced into another. It was a deliberate invasion on Durant's part, Durant who knew exactly what he was doing and what sort of reaction he wanted to generate. He manipulated Rush into a state of heightened emotion specifically to employ that to his advantage, or necessity, or whatever Durant's reasoning for his fucking - emotional theft.

Staying even partially upright has become a trembling effort, and Rush nearly keels over again, halting his downward motion only with a strategically planted hand on the floor, and even then he knows the support will not last long. He pinions Durant's curled form with a look of utter hatred.

"What did you do to me?" he rasps, now possessing much more than an inkling of what the true answer may be, and dreading it.