Jaime had let go of her hand, but still huddles close out of protective instinct, the same he would would towards anyone. In the real world, sudden changes of his surroundings are enough for him to get ready for a fight and prepare to pop the suit.

Realizing it's just another memory, he peeks out the window.

"Well this one's yours, 'cause it's raining and there's green outside that isn't spiky."

She'd seen the climate where he grew up. In one of those yards the trio of teens had run through, Paco had only narrowly avoided barreling into a cactus.