"It's not a memory!" She says it louder than she means to, in her panic, gripping his hand tight enough to hurt in an effort to hold on to him, not to lose him to madness and disbelief. Shit. Shit, she should've known how he'd react, she should've been more careful - "I know it doesn't make any sense. I know, okay? But I swear, I swear this is real. I - I don't know where we are, or how we got here, but...I'm alive. They brought me back. I'm here, I'm real. And you - you're Wash. You're Wash."