"I'm flattered," Kat says, wry as ever even under circumstances like these. It's flimsy armor, but she can't let herself be worn down too thoroughly, not now, not yet. She has to keep it together and see this through first, especially if there's still anything she can do to help. Later, she can let all of it catch up to her, fall apart if need be. Later, when Marcus is safe, and back in his own body, and not a moment sooner. It's still fucking weird anyway, to keep reminding herself that that's who she's talking to now. At least it provides a good distraction.

Nodding to herself, she exhales slowly, then repeats the name under her breath to commit it to memory in case she needs to be the one to tell Sam. This is a hell of a chance they have here, and she can't risk getting it wrong.

She has other things on her mind too, though, and she can't help but ask, "Are you okay? I mean... relatively?"