Chapter Text
“Can’t you believe it?” Deimos said once he was inside of the place where Doc is, the door clicking shut behind him. “I’ve got shrapnel from the bullets still in my skin, and I’m somehow walking fine.”
“Where?” The other man is fixated to his computer screen, instead of looking behind him.
“Left thigh. Almost hit an artery, too.”
“And you came here instead of getting medical attention?” Doc finally tore his eyes from the screen, watching as Deimos was slightly bending his left leg, struggling to stay steady.
“I mean, yeah. I’m bleeding out.” Deimos stared at him, expectantly.
At first, Doc didn’t get it. Then, he frowned.
“Oh, I see what you’re trying to do. You *want* me to treat it for you despite knowing that I will take no responsibilities of your little injuries.” He said, as if the idea personally offended him. “I have so much work on my hands, Deimos.”
“What’s the big deal about postponing all that for my leg?”
“You don’t usually come to me when you’re losing blood. What is this really about?”
“Uh… I'm trying out new stuff, instead of doing the old-samey stuff—you know..” The man said nervously, he couldn't even hide the awkward smile on his face.
Doc let out a long, heavy sigh. He stayed still for a moment before finally getting up to find the medical supplies. Deimos took his seat, spreading his leg wide so they could get a clear look at the wound.
He looked at him sitting in the chair, Doc froze up with an unreadable expression. For a while, it almost felt like he was caught staring, drawn in by the way Deimos was sitting. Or at least, that’s what Deimos told himself.
Kinda flattering, actually. Did he just flex on accident? “You’re staring at me like I’m a snack, Doc.”
Doc snapped his eyes away and threw the medkit across the room. “Nevermind.” His voice came clipped, almost embarrassed.
“Hey! Why did you do that?!”
“Deimos!” Sanford shouted, clutching his side where Deimos had jabbed him. He spun around and shoved him back in retaliation, grinning despite the complaint.
“Where were you headed?” Deimos asked right away, a little curious. They haven't really talked to eachother ever since the ambush on that mission five hours ago.
Sanford glanced around the room, giving himself a moment to think, then turned to Deimos. “Nowhere. I can't think of anything to do.. I'm bored.”
“I guess the stitches on your skin is preventing your thoughts coming to your brain all the time..”
“No shit, it hurts now because you scared me! But forget about that, where were you heading to anyway?”
“I just wanted to look after you, to see how you're doing. That's what friends do, right?”
“Seriously, I should be the one looking out for you instead.” Sanford let out a small laugh. “You’ve been walking around with a bullet in your leg like it’s no big deal.”
“Eehhh—not anymore. Doc patched me up.” Deimos gave his thigh a quick pat. “Used the good stuff this time, too.”
“Doc?”
“Huh?”
“What do you mean by Doc? Are you in Hank’s position now or something?”
“No? I asked him to do it.”
“That must’ve taken some serious convincing, buddy. We’ve got our own medic in the back, you could’ve gone to that guy.”
“Pssh,” Deimos sneered. It was that easy. Well… Sanford never really seemed like the type to get close with his boss anyway. “They’re the same to me. I only took a shortcut to Doc instead.”
He had been keeping up his laid-back attitude through the whole conversation, until Sanford said something he didn’t hear coming.
“You know, it kinda sounds like you and Doc have been screwing around lately.”
..?
“What?! No! Don’t say that, man.” He let out a shaky laugh. “He's my boss, I'm not fucking my boss for some higher pay.”
“It was a joke. Maybe not a joke—”
“Kay–” Deimos cut in quickly to change the topic. “Do you remember how awfully insane that guy is? By insane, I meant by mentally.”
The one who tried to kill them both in their mission, to be specific.
“He gave me this bad burn on my thigh, basically.. where the bullet came through.”
“Ahh.. right, he even sliced the sides of my stomach too. He really had to add the burn after for the fun of it.” Sanford lifted his tank top, revealing a nasty scar. Angry red and still fresh, it was surrounded by jagged, vein marks that pulsed like thunder under the skin. “It would be a high possibility that they're gonna come back soon, if only I remembered how that idiots face looked like.”
When Deimos heard that last part, he tried to imagine how they really look like.
Well he had seen their weapon, and it was like a katana or some sort. It's not that it's special or anything since people using it is uncommon in this place. Other than the weapon, the person hid themselves better than anyone else.
They had an unique outfit too so it checks out.
“As long as we remember his signature moves, we’ll always know it’s him,” Deimos replied, not exactly sounding serious about it.
“Signature moves… now that you’ve said it, yeah. The guy’s got some memorable attacks. You really think he’s coming back to finish us off?”
“Dude, the way that we are right now we’ll be fine. If he wanted us dead, he should've done it earlier. He didn’t need to waste time shooting us and slicing us just for us to live at the end.”
“You know what? You might be right …for the first time.”
…
“So… are you feeling okay right now?”
“Mmmh... I guess,” Sanford muttered. “It’s kind of numb, but sitting down with it feels like hell.” He sighed and started rubbing his arm, clearly uncomfortable.
“That sucks, man. It’s life, we just gotta have to live with all these man-made problems.” Deimos said, then added, “You wanna rest with me?” He wanted to make sure his friend was staying comfortable.
“Yeah, I do. Let’s get to the couch before someone else steals it.”
“After you, ‘ford.”
Both of them are on the couch.
They’d been watching TV, flipping through 25 channels and finding none worth sticking to. With nothing better to do, they just kept switching. Sanford eventually had to lie down to make the pain more bearable, ending up stretched out across the couch with his head on Deimos’ lap.
Deimos, meanwhile, kept lightly kicking the floor with his free leg, restless and overstimulated. The feeling of a head squeezing his leg is a bit too much for him.
To cure his boredom, his thoughts drifted to Fraser.. his little brother. Someone he still, truly cared about.
Most of the people he knew didn’t have siblings. No relatives they looked after, no one who really got what it meant to be the older one. He’d been wanting to talk to someone who understood, just to share the weight a little. To talk about the kind of stuff only older siblings seem to carry.
Sanford was the one guy he hadn’t asked if he had any siblings. He didn't wanna be a bother for thinking about adding him to the list of people he’d already bugged with that question. The good thing was, Sanford didn’t seem to mind when Deimos brought up Fraser. As long as it wasn’t anything heavy or negative, he'll let him talk.
So it gave Deimos the push to finally ask, “Hey… you’ve known about Fraser for a while, right?"
Sanford shifted his head, looking up at him. “Uh huh? You talk about him all the time, what's wrong?"
“Mmm… I was just wondering because— I have a brother. Do you have any relatives? Like… a little sibling or something?” He scratched the back of his neck. “You never really talk about your family. At least, not like how I talk about mine.”
“Oh yeaah, I forgot I never really talked about my family. Since you asked, let me tell you the background.”
“I’ve got my mom. Never met my dad. I’ve got a little brother… maybe a cousin out in Chicago?” Sanford started listing casually and.. he didn’t get far before Deimos cut him off.
“You had a little brother and never told me?!”
“That’s what you're getting from this?”
“Sorry! I just… ugh.” Deimos ran a hand through his hair. “I just.. I don't know. I assumed you never had anything to say everytime I rant about Fraser because you don’t have a brother yourself.”
“Deimos… I… uh.” Sanford kept his eyes down, voice steady. “I just… never had a little brother going through what yours did. I didn’t know what to say so—”
“No, it’s okay. It's not a big deal, sorry.” Deimos let out a soft sigh and gave Sanford the same frown he sees most of the time. He wanted to hit himself for being such a nuisance. “Lets talk about… you, I wanna know more about you. Like, tell me more about your little brother.” His hand moved without thinking, gently brushing over his friends shoulder.
“Okay then. Life was kind of normal when we were kids. Me and my brother grew up in the suburbs, but then things went berserk, and we kept moving around to not die out here. I had to start working way earlier than he did, Momma made sure of that.”
He let out a quiet yawn, resting his head against Deimos’ thigh. “That old job… way different from where I ended up. Not that you haven’t already pieced that together.”
“Yep.”
“So after a few years, my brother finally got old enough to start working. He told me he was gonna try getting hired at an agency… I didn’t think much of it, considering the situation I was in too, you know? I didn’t realize the agency he meant was the one going against Hank damn Wimbleton.”
“Me too,” Deimos commented, some of the worst memories from working there still stuck with him. “Did’ja hear from him after that?”
“Nope. I don’t even know if he still works there,” Sanford grunted. It was hard to tell whether he was more upset about his brother joining the A.A.H.W or the fact that they’d completely lost contact.
“Sucks, man, I hope he gets out once he realizes it's shitty there.”
Something popped up In Deimos' mind suddenly. Oh! That guy he held hostage a few days ago. He told himself the man reminded him of Sanford because of how similar their face were. The weird part was, the Cycl guy said he wasn’t with the A.A.H.W anymore. It's hard to connect the dots together with that information in mind.
Should he even ask?
“Can I get something off my chest? Been bothering me for a bit,” Sanford said, sitting up from his lap.
“Oh yeah? Hit me.”
Sanford hesitated for a moment, staring right at Deimos through his sunglasses before speaking. “Before you say anything—I'm not mad at you. I think now nowadays you should try going easy on your little brother. You’ve been treating him like he never went into a coma.”
“I— Uh, whaat.. do you mean by that?”
“Don’t be too strict. That’s what I mean.”
“He’s been like this for months. I’m not being overly strict — I’m trying to knock something into him so he won’t hurt himself.”
“Yes, look, it bothers me because every time you complain to me about Fraser… I don’t see any progress. He’s not treating you any better, and you’re not getting through to him either. Like.. how do I explain this.. um—If all you’re doing is scolding him everytime he does something you don’t like, then he’s never gonna learn from his mistakes. He will feel like you always get mad.”
“… huh.”
“Just a piece of advice. I dunno man, maybe your life would suck a lot less.”
“You really do make it sound like I complain a lot.” Deimos frowned, eyes drifting as he thought back.
“Kindaa—but hey, you were just letting your emotions out, and that’s okay.”
“Fine. Alright, I’ll take your advice and quit screwing myself over.”
“Cool.”
“Fuck.. fuck.. fuck! Dammit!”
Sanford picked up on the voice from across the room and turned his head. There was Deimos, pacing in tight circles like he was about to lose it. The stress was written all over him, restless, muttering, almost trembling. Sanford figured it had to be Fraser again. He couldn’t recall the last time Deimos looked this anxious over anything else.
“Hey, the hell is going on with you?” Sanford asked, voice rough with concern as he walked up to him.
Deimos looked at him, trying to calm himself before speaking. “It’s Doc again. That fuckin’ old piece of shit… why’d he wait ‘til *now* to tell me Fraser’s gonna be working here?!”
“Wait, hold up—why Fraser, of all people? Like, how did he even end up here?”
“He said he managed to find something really special in Fraser, or whatever the fuck that means. I was too pissed to even listen.” Deimos cupped his face with both hands, sighing hard. “We all know that he’s a stuck up bitch who thinks he knows everything. God! What a damn fool.”
At least Deimos wasn’t exploding this time. Only barely holding it in.
“Well, knowing Doc, he’ll probably give Fraser some easy missions to start.” His friend managed to say, his intention to reassure Deimos.
“That doesn’t make it any better, knowing he’ll just get thrown into the hard ones later.”
“Come on, think positive. If Doc sees something in him, maybe that means Fraser’s got potential. He might actually be awesome out there in the meantime.
“That's what you think.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely what I think. It’s a suggestion, not a sermon. You need some good thoughts in your skull, man, or else you’ll burn out before you even get moving. I’m not tryna hold your hand through this, you just gotta get it through that thick head of yours.” Sanford leaned in on his words, pushing harder than he meant to. Comforting Deimos wasn’t his strong suit, and honestly, it got a little annoying when his friend acted like hearing him out was some kind of chore.
His friend furrowed his brows, clearly not having it. “This is my brother I’m talking about. My little brother— and you expect me to just calm down?”
Sanford exhaled sharply through his nose, his tone cooling off a little. “Yes, dumbo, I do expect you to calm down. Because losing your shit doesn’t fix anything.” He crossed his arms and looked at Deimos, not backing down. “You’re acting like Doc tossed him into a death pit already. You haven’t even seen what kind of work he’s doing yet.”
Deimos let out a sharp tsk and threw his arms down in pure frustration, the kind that made his whole body jolt. He looked away with his jaw locked tight, clearly fighting the urge to snap again.
“Get yourself together, Dei. I know it’s your brother, but think about where we are right now.”
“What the fuck do you know about him?!” Deimos snapped back, voice raw. “You don’t know how much I gave up on how many times I’ve torn my own life apart just to save his! And I’m not letting some bitch toss him into the deathpit like he’s expendable!”
His chest rose and fell unevenly, the fury bleeding into something shakier. “I barely trust anyone here... not even Doc, when it comes to my brother. I just—” His voice cracked, the anger breaking on the edges. “I can’t lose him. I can’t...”
“Woah—Dei, hey.” Sanford stepped in, hands gripping Deimos’ shoulders, firm at first then easing up. It sounded like he was crying. “Breathe. You’re not alone in this, alright? I’m here. I’m sorry.”
“What's the commotion here?”
God he sure looks like an idiot standing there.
Sanford quickly let go of Deimos and stepped back, trying to play it off like nothing happened. He wiped at his glasses with the back of his hand, avoiding Doc’s stare.
“We’re..just talkin’.” Sanford said, his hand instinctively going back at Deimos' shoulder to rub it slowly.
Doc raised his eyebrow, he was not buying it considering by the look of their faces. “I’ll assume you two were talking about Fraser then.”
Deimos snapped his eyes open at the mention of Fraser, his mood went back to what it was. He was about to say something, until Sanford beat him to it.
“Fraser, yeah, okay— listen, Doc. I want to understand why you’re sending Fraser off on a mission. What the hell were you thinking?” Sanford’s voice was sharper now, a sudden crack away from the calm, fake optimism he’d been throwing at Deimos a moment ago.
And it felt wrong watching him do it. That should’ve been him. Deimos was the one with his chest caving in, heart stabbed through by panic, thoughts spinning with a hundred ways his brother could already be gone. Yet it was Sanford raising hell while he just stood there.
“I know what I’m doing. Just because my decision feels wrong to you doesn’t mean I am wrong.” Doc crossed his arms.
“He’s just a little kid, he had his whole damn childhood ripped away from him! He’s not old enough to be doing all this shit!” Sanford’s voice was cracking with anger, and each word landed like a nail driven into Deimos’ chest. He couldn’t stand hearing it, not from him, not now.
“The mission I’m giving him doesn’t guarantee his death,” Doc said slowly, each word deliberate. He let out a sharp breath through his nose. “He’s tougher than you think.” He made an eye contact with Deimos as he said it.
This, though, provoked Deimos to speak up. “You don’t know my brother more than I d—”
“No. Shut up. Let me finish.”
“…”
“It’s only just a test. I want to see if he’ll actually go through with it, how long he lasts alone, and whether he’s got the spine to fight. If he passes all three, then I’ll consider hiring him. Until then, he’s just a candidate. You need to trust me on this.”
“And if he fails?” Sanford asked, voice quieter this time, a little tense. The same worry Deimos had is showing in his face too.
“If he failed, he failed,” Doc said flatly, what are these two not getting? “What? I’m not saying anything hard for you two to understand.”
The silence dragged on. Neither Sanford nor Deimos looked any more reassured, no matter how matter-of-fact Doc sounded. It also looks like he's not gonna continue arguing any further.
…
“This conversation is over. I hope the statements I've made clear up any misunderstandings. I do not look forward to arguing with you two idiots again.” Of course, that’s the Doc they both knew, couldn’t walk out of a room without cursing them out. Idiot is hardly a curse word but it counts, so..
“…Okay, then,” Sanford replied under his breath, watching as Doc walked off the other way. The hallway swallowed his footsteps. He turned back to look at Deimos, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You alright?”
Deimos stared at the wall like it might cough up an answer. “Kinda. I’ll feel better later.”
Sanford’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”
They swallowed, words catching up to him. He’d been holding this in for a while. “Why’d you do that? Talking back to Doc’s basically a death sentence.”
“For me? I’m fine.”
“Uh… yeah. I’ve been thinking about what you said and… it really got to me.”
“About Fraser?”
“Yeah. I should’ve done that.”
"I'm pretty sure he gets it. You don’t need to keep pushing just to make a point. Doc’s an asshole sometimes, and we still end up working for him like nothing happened.”
Every day, it'll cut deeper when people started questioning Doc’s actions, his professionalism. Nobody lasted long under him, most only stayed because there was nowhere else to go once this job spat them out.
"Ugh… I hope he doesn’t take it to heart." With Deimos’ overcomplicated feelings about Doc, it was hard not to worry.
"He won’t. We didn’t even do anything anyway.”
“…He said it’d be an easy mission, and you’re telling me he sent you to escort a pizza delivery guy?”
“Relax, it’s my first mission,”
“No—come on, pizza delivery guy?! That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard!”
“Does it look like I was the one who picked it?”
“…Yeah, yeah. Myy badd. Whatever the mission is, I wanna be there to protect you!” Mars declared.
“What about the delivery guy?”
He rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t care less about him. If he dies, then may I play the worlds smallest violin for him.”
“That’s the Mars I know,” Fraser said with a half-assed smile, amused by the way Mars behaved. Yeah, they were getting along just fine.
As for the mission… Fraser couldn’t think of much to expect. It was just a simple tutorial run… harmless, in theory. Unless that 2BDAMNED guy is smart enough to trick him into doing something far worse.
Mars shot him a side-eye, then gave a smirk. “Thats the Mars you know? Really? What’s my favorite weapon? Go! You got three seconds!”
“Daggers..” Fraser answered fast without a pause.
“Hey!” Mars announced.. does that mean he's right? “You got the right answer! How’d you know that?”
“Did you not notice me looking at the boxes of daggers lying around the other day? Not exactly subtle.”
“Oh.. I only asked because you often forget everything.”
“Excuse me?”
“Okay, I don’t care anymore. Blah, blah, blah… when’s our first mission?!”
“What do you mean our–” Fraser stopped himself with a groan. “You know what, forget it. It’s probably tomorrow. What time is it, anyway?” He glanced around the building, searching for a clock, and as usual there wasn’t a single one in sight.
He lost interest quickly, a little disappointed, then Fraser returned to their main topic: the mission, obviously. Mars seemed far too excited about it, which only made Fraser wonder: what could possibly be so special about escorting a pizza delivery man? Even himself couldn't see the appeal.
Mars’ form suddenly snap into full visibility, feet landing on the ground with a solid thud, he pulled out a device Fraser had never seen before.
“What the hell is that?” Fraser asked, feeling unfamiliar with the object.
“A phone,”
“…you stole that from someone didn’t you?”
Mars’ eyes went wide, surprised that Fraser guessed it right. “Uh… maybe?”
Meanwhile, Deimos was patting down his pockets, a slow look of dread creeping onto his face as he realized something was missing.
“What the fuck?— Sanford, have you seen my phone?”
“No?” Sanford replied without looking down.
“Dammit.” Deimos hissed, checking his pants again just in case. “Did I leave it on the counter?”
“Actually, yeah.”
“The hell are you gonna do with his phone?”
“I wanted to look inside but it's locked behind a pin, so nevermind about that.” Mars said, then stepped forward sliding the phone into Fraser’s jacket pocket without warning.
“What the? Get that off of me.” Fraser tried to grab the phone inside his pocket only for Mars to hold firmly on his wrist.
“Keep. It! Unless you want it to break!”
“That would be your fault! Now put it back where you found it!”
“No way! He’s already walking here now!” Mars hissed, glancing over at Deimos approaching fast. His form shimmered, fading into the air, though to Fraser he was still plainly there.
Sure enough, Deimos closed the distance in seconds, stopping right in front of him. He hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly as the silence dragged.
“Fraser… uh. Have you… seen my phone?”
“Here.”
Fraser handed it over without hesitation, the weight of it leaving his hand as Deimos closed his fingers around it.
Deimos flipped the phone over, scanning it for cracks or any damage. Its not broken, for fuck’s sake. “Thanks… where’d you find it?” he asked, looking for an answer.
Fraser wasn’t about to admit that their little brother (Mars) had swiped it. That betrayal would have to wait until the three of them met face to face.
“Living room,” Lying felt easy now.
“Ohh… that’s where I left it. Thanks again, little buddy.”
Then he left.
Could this be it? Their first conversation without yelling at each other? What a surprise. It rubbed him the wrong way, honestly. But maybe he should stop overthinking something that’s barely the minimum for Deimos to do...
“Brother, I want to go to the moon!”
Oh my god.
Before Fraser could even react, Mars jumped in, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“No, no, wait! After the moon, we build a rocket that flies to the sun! Think about it!”
“Where the hell is this coming from?”
“I’m bored! I get way too excited sometimes. I really wanna go on the mission… but while we wait, I gotta stir up some trouble.”
“Just like when you stole Deimos’ phone and tried to pin it on me?”
“Yeah, yet that didn’t satisfy me enough. Big brother didn’t even get mad.”
“Dude, you're harder to please than anyone else.”
“Fraser, a moment please.”
Both of them jumped at the sudden voice. Anddd it’s Doc again. Fraser turned around slowly, bracing for the usual weird look Doc gave him whenever he caught him talking to ‘himself.’
“Yes..?” Fraser replied, sounding unmotivated.
“Could you come with me to my office? We'll need to have a talk regarding your mission.”
“Okay.”
“…And that’s all you have to do. Did I make myself clear?”
“Uh huh.”
Doc raised an eyebrow. “Were you listening?”
“Yes. You want me to escort that guy somewhere far from his starting point. Make sure he gets there safe and doesn’t get hurt.”
“Good.” Doc swiveled back to his computer, clicking through what looked like the mission schedule. “You start tomorrow at XX:00 sharp. And just so you know—you won’t be alone on this mission.”
Won’t be alone? Fraser blinked as if it's gonna make his vision more clear. “You mean the guy I’m escorting?”
Doc gave him a deadpan look. “No, I’m talking about your friend who’s literally hovering behind you.”
Behind him?
…
“Aaahhh!” Mars panicked, tripping and grabbing at the air like he was about to fall off a chair… while floating in midair.
It took Mars a few minutes to calm down. Now he was spinning slowly in the air, staring straight into Doc’s soul with those wide eyes.
Someone other than Fraser could see him? At first, it sounded like a dream. Now it felt more like a nightmare. Doc was the last person he expected to notice. He doesn't know anything about this old man at all, which is why he doesn't take it lightly.
His chest tightened. Panic went back at him again, and without thinking, he shot toward the exit, desperate to get away.
Doc’s voice sliced through the air, cold and firm. All of these words were for Mars.
“Don’t leave yet.”
Mars froze mid-flight, the weight of that single command hitting him similarly to a punishment he didn’t understand. Slowly, reluctantly, he hovered back, his eyes wide and full of fear.
“Do me a favor. You’ll help him do what he needs to do. The easiest thing for a ghost like you is to create distractions, stopping anyone trying to sabotage the mission. This way would make it sure the mission is going well for him.”
The boy barely registered Doc’s words, his mind was a jumble, heart racing too fast to catch up. He hovered there, blinking in a half-dazed state, unsure what to say or how to reply.
He looked over to Fraser for help. Meanwhile, he was glued to the computer screen behind Doc, eyes flicking between the mission schedule and whatever else was on display, it got his attention pretty well. Fuck, he’s not gonna help obviously.
Not wanting to make the old man impatient, Mars gave a shaky nod in a response, swallowing the lump in his throat, hoping it would be enough.
“You may leave now,” Doc said, his voice pulling Fraser back to attention.
With Mars, Fraser stepped out of the office, still half-asleep and yawning. Before he could take more than a few steps, Mars suddenly lunged, grabbing him roughly and pulling him forward so fast Fraser barely had time to react. He stumbled backward and slammed into the wall with a sharp thud, blinking in surprise as Mars held him firmly in place.
“Ah, bitch! What the fuck…” Fraser groaned, rubbing the sore spot on his head as the sting flared again. Mars let go instantly, looking guilty.
“I’m sorry! I’m just scared!”
“Scared over what??”
“Didn’t you see him look at me?! He knows I’m here!”
“And? How’s that bad? You’ve been wanting to get noticed.”
“Only by the person I feel close to and have known for years! That Doc guy met me for a day and somehow sees me while I’m still a ghost! I’m supposed to not be seen by anyone! How?!”
“It could be from his red… goggles or something. I don’t know, I'm just saying things.”
“Red goggles—should I try breaking it?”
“Are you fucking stupid? No. You do that and we’ll be back in our graves before the day’s over.”
Mars paused, thinking it over, then let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay, okay… no breaking stuff today. I wanna go home.”
“Damn, you want me to ask Deimos?”
“If you want..”
“Fine. Let’s go home.”
“Oh— oh, okay!”
