If it wasn't panic in her eyes, it was at least the need for a healthy debate. Fred's gaze settle briefly on the place where their hands were connected, then back up to study his face intently. Looked past the marks on his throat and the obvious evidence of Lawson's attack. Wesley looked tired. She probably didn't look much better.

"...don't say that. Please." Her voice was pitched low again. Not to plead her case but to counter one too many words said by an already sore throat. "It's not like..." It wasn't wisdom, to her mind. It was focus. And she directed it full force on whatever held her attention. A project. A paper. Even a certain person....

Fred attempted a smile.

"I'm just stubborn."