Deep down, she knows what it is, but the idea of being the only one in possession of a live body, more importantly, this body, is too good to be true. They're both in denial because the idea is absurd in the best way. She's struggling to remember what it felt like to have a stable body temperature. Is she supposed to feel warm? Or hot? All she can say for sure is that she doesn't feel cold, and that's been her normal for the last decade. She barely even processes that he's feeling for a pulse. It's erratic because she is on the verge of panicking; her heart is trip-hammering in her chest so fast. She shakes her head at his first question and pauses, holding her breath to try to assess. "I can't--I don't remember it being like this." Maybe because she'd always had another consciousness more concerned about the sudden possession than the normal beating of their heart. "I can't--" she takes Sam's free hand in hers and presses it to the left side of her chest. "Is it supposed to be like that? This?"