"I know," she answers without hesitation. And she does - but more importantly, she knows too that him saying it, believing it and needing her to, means that he at least knows on some level that it was wrong. That it's not something you do to someone you love, someone that trusts you, someone you're supposed to protect.

She rests her hand on his knee, still twisted around to face him, still looking up at him.

"Just like I won't let anyone here do it to you, now. Or Jesus."