"You know that's bullshit," he says, still soft, throat still tight. Danger, Neil in danger, and he hadn't been there. "You know that's not why."

He wants to lean forward, curl a hand around the back of Neil's neck and pull him in, trace that scar with his lips and his tongue and learn it. Factor it into the detailed map he already has of Neil's body. That map is out of date now.

There's still so much he doesn't know.

From behind him he hears a hissing making its way toward a high whistle, and he tugs his hands gently free. "I should... get that."