While Cole went back to the car, Archer sat on the ground beneath the waning moon. The eerie silence of the graveyard was punctured by his heaving breaths. Objectively, this situation made no sense. Why would he agree to dispose of the body of a deceased man he owed no allegiance to? It only made sense when you considered the subjective as well. He was protecting Isobel.
Digging his nails through the latex of his glove to prickle at his chest, he closed his eyes briefly, feeling the sweat settle on his brow. The very fact that Trenton had died in Isobel's bedroom was suspicious, and were he in a position to think, he'd have certainly pondered this. But for the moment, he could merely take his subjective desire to protect her and coat it in the objective drive to do a task well.
The sound of approaching footsteps prompted him to open his eyes, straightening his spine and slowly standing up. When Cole offered to start the grave, he inclined his head. "Thank you," he said, stepping aside and sitting on the ground to watch the other man work. Not feeling the need to make small talk to fill the silence, Archer simply watched Cole work. After he had dug out a shallow hole the right length and width for the body, Archer stood. "I will take a shift now," he said, walking towards the other man and extending a hand for the shovel.