Something pure.

From behind, a touch on her shoulder. She spins, instantly alert, hand closing around her billy.

"Hey, calm down. It's me." Acton's silhouette hangs against a faint wash of light from the direction of the Throat. Clarke relaxes, pushes gently at his chest. Says nothing.

"Welcome back," Acton says. "Haven't seen you out here for a while."

"I was— I was looking for you," she says.

"In the mud?"

"What?"

"You were just floating there, face down."

"I was—" She feels a vestige of disquiet, but she can't remember what to attach it to. "I must have drifted off. I was dreaming. It's been so long since I slept out here, I—"

"Four days, I think. I missed you."

"Well, you could have come inside."

Acton nods. "I tried. But I could never get all of me through the airlock, and the part that I could— well, it was sort of a poor substitute. If you'll remember."

"I don't know, Karl. You know how I feel—"

"Right. And I know you like it out here as much as I do. Sometimes I feel like I could just stay out here forever." He pauses for a moment, as if weighing alternatives. "Fischer's got it right."

Something goes cold. "Fischer?"

"He's still out here, Len. You know that."

"You've seen him?"

"Not often. He's pretty skittish."

"When do...I mean—"

"Only when I'm alone. And pretty far from Beebe."

She looks around, inexplicably frightened. Of course you can't see him. He isn't here. And even if he was, it's still too dark to...

She forces herself to leave her headlamp doused.

"He's...I think he's really hooked in to you, Len. But I guess you know that too."

No. No, I didn't. I don't. "He talks to you?" She doesn't know why she'd resent that.

"No."

"Then how?"

Acton doesn't answer for a moment. "I don't know. I just got that impression. But he doesn't talk. It's...I don't know, Len. He just hangs around out there and watches us. I don't know if he's what we'd consider ... sane, I guess—"

"He watches us," she says, buzzing low and level.

"He knows we're together. I think...I think he figures that connects me and him somehow." Acton is silent for a bit. "You cared about him, didn't you?"

Oh yes. It always starts off so innocently. You cared about him, that's nice, and then it's did you find him attractive and then well you must have done something or he wouldn't keep hitting on you and then you fucking slut I'll—

"Lenie," Acton says. "I'm not trying to start anything."

She waits and watches.

"I know there was nothing going on. And even if there was, I know it's no threat."

She's heard this part before, too.