It's almost too easy. She'd like to take that as a compliment, as a trust unshakable, but she knows it's a shock just this side of obeying so as not to break the glass bubble around it. Her. But Jack's mind isn't something to be rushed, and if he's been through what all the others have, that's even more true now. So she doesn't, and she lets him start.

"No." There's almost a tiny laugh, the word that comes out first when he skips from asking about her to asking suddenly about himself. (It's going to take so much more than another predatory universe to take Jack Townsend down. She'd see to that if she had to, too.) But. Worst case scenarios. Likening her to a ghost, gone beyond the pale and waiting for him on the other side of that other door. The type she wasn't during the last week either. As though the one could stall her from the other.

Though it does jostle something else free. Because Jack isn't dead, and Jack is here, which means Jack isn't back home. And that means the Gas Station (— is a problem to think about a little later than now). She picks the closest bench to their exit point.

"I woke up in a foundation." Which, at least thankfully, is the truth on multiple levels so far as she knows at this point. Sabine tilted her head, turning sideways and facing him rather than forward. "I'm assuming you did, too, when you first got here?"