He eases, just a little, when she steps back. His hand still remains pressed to his scar, however...there's - there's something in him, twisting in his gut, that he's trying to sort out.

"He...saved me."

Alfred doesn't smile back at her. He can't. His voice trembles a little, expression...starting to crack a bit, around the edges.

"...Sarah, what are we doing? What is this?"