"You couldn't have helped him pick some flowers?" Hobbes said, finally turning around, half raising his hand before letting it drop listlessly against his side. He chewed the inside of his lip, staring at Mike, unsure if he should look away, back away. Eventually, he just sighs.

"I know," he said, swallowing hard, still confused, trying to step back and to see all the angles. Sometimes...sometimes he just needed to get out of his own head. "You trust him. I know."