[he knows his hand will be fine, but he also knows he would be panicking in a similar vein had she gotten hurt, albeit a lot more internally. it's not her fault, he refuses to acknowledge that.]

Then don't make me feel like I need to apologize. We signed up for this job, and it does not come without danger. [her anxiousness doesn't escape him though, and he understands it. he reaches out with his free and uninjured hand, settling it on her leg.]

You worry me, I worry you. That's how it works now. [when did that happen. when did he reach the point where he could actually admit to that.] Can we do that without snapping at each other over it? Or you will end up owing me your own apologies.