His stomach drops a little at that look on her face. He believes, without a doubt, that Ellie will kill the person who killed her... friend doesn't seem like a strong enough word, for whatever he was to her. Neal remembers being face-to-face with Fowler, that gun pressed against his palm, the chance for revenge five feet in front of him. He remembers the tremor of his finger on the trigger, and the weight of it when he let his arm drop.

He's still not sure sometimes if that moment made him a good man or a coward.

For a moment all he can do is meet Ellie's eyes, the uncertainty clear in his own. It's so hard to imagine a world as cold as hers must be. He can't judge her for wanting to kill the person who took her most important person from her. He's been there, after all, even if he didn't follow through.

He asks her what he hadn't asked himself, then. "What happens after?"

No don't do it, no that's wrong, no platitudes or pleas. He just wants to know if she's planned for an after, or if the blood is all that matters to her right now.