Allison can still remember with stark clarity the day that Ben had died. Not the mission itself, because after going those details it's almost as if her brain has decided to only focus on the gory aftermath. On the blood, on the way that Grace tried to save him. The way the room went quiet when she confirmed he was gone, the way it felt to fall to her knees as the grief felt like it sucker punched her and knocked the air right out of her lungs.

This time, though... Details of the way that Vanya died, the way that Luther died, the way Klaus died are all blurring together in her head. She can see the Swede, the way he looked at her as he made her choose. The panic in Five's face; the look of pain on Vanya's face as she bled out; the way Diego sounded as he tried to wake up Luther; the way that Klaus looked at her as he faded away.

It had been her fault. It's all her fault, and when Luther says there had been nothing they could do, Allison flinches as if the words physically hurt her.

"I couldn't save him," she manages quietly, but the agony in her voice is impossible to miss. "It shouldn't be him. He shouldn't--"

She sobs again, turning back to Klaus. She wants to go back to clinging to him, as if somehow that will bring him back, but she doesn't have the strength to try to pull away from Luther. "...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."