He doesn't move as she kisses his cheek, except to lean a little closer to her, his hand drifting to the small of her back, where his fingers spread, warm and firm. Ben looks down at her, searching her eyes as she tells him that she doesn't want to go back to her own world, to the life she lived there. His voice, when he speaks, is low and a little hoarse with everything he's feeling, everything he has so much trouble releasing from the tight grip he keeps on himself. "I can't imagine being able to continue on without you."

Maybe her friends and allies can. Maybe they don't need her the way he seems to now, with all the light and warmth and joy she's brought into what had been, he knows, a starkly empty life outside of his job and his duty and the work he did with Ray. He blinks, rapid, the import of everything she's saying washing over him. "I think you'd love Chicago."