There was nothing Mitchell wanted more in the world in that moment than to have Sal remove his arm from that shoulder. The small-talk from Sal on the way was met with noncommittal answers that Mitch couldn't even remember after he uttered them. He was tense as step-by-step they made their way to that mansion of Hell, Niflheim. Helping Eileen and Henry was a small comfort; the next part was to try to get away, but Mitch had yet to try.
Sal could draw a gun so quick; until the asexual was on the ground or incapacitated, Mitch didn't dare run.
"Ain't mine," the redhead grunted, and remembered the last time he walked on these lawns: when he was helping to rescue Henry. "So, what the hell do you want with me now?"
'Might as well ask,' he thought. 'Faster he answers, faster we fight, and faster I leave.'