She doesn't speak. Reinhardt's anger had never been at her, and she knew it wasn't now, either, but it was an anger of righteous proportions. She can't say it's unwarranted.

But the last thing she wants is anyone going up against Reaper because of her.

"We fought. He ran." Reinhardt doesn't need to know how her armor was damaged, how her back still hurt now and her nightmares and daydreams echoed with that cold, heartless laughter. "I'm fine, just ... shaken."

She sets a gentle hand on his, looking up at him with a firm expression; No. Don't. It's Reinhardt, though, and she doesn't have a lot of faith that she'll be able to deter him if he gets anything in his head.

But Reaper honestly frightens her, and she doesn't want anyone risking going after him on her account.