All right, you know what, no. Iman swings back to Rush, looking somewhere between aghast and outraged. "OKAY," she says in a clipped tone, reaches out and grabs the first thing she can find, which is a small screwdriver. She uses this implement to gesticulate at him like a teacher scolding a student, which is mildly ironic, given their falsified relationship in the previous night's dream. "And now, instead of continuing this conversational arms race until it literally kills us, you're going to fix my fucking arm. You promised me you would, and you can't do it if you're dead, can you?"

Much as she is repulsed by the idea of letting him work on it under the luminescent eyes of this feline asshole, which probably won't leave until it wants to - much as she still isn't convinced he'll be able to do anything for her at all - this would be preferable to Rush willfully driving the thing to make good on its threats. Honestly, this arrogant idiot. How did he ever survive before he knew her?

She finds his eyes, holding his gaze with intensity, and a bit of a plea. "Please can we just do this," she says quietly.