He wasn't worried. Or... whatever. He didn't even know anymore. Times were different and maybe he did have a right to be worried. But he wasn't going out to jump into the heat of battle and Phobos wasn't a little boy anymore.
"All women are different kinds of crazy," he commented offhandedly, reaching down to pick up his bags.
It only served to remind him that he had never really been around for Phobos. Sometimes he'd feel guilty of it; even if it made him think how far they had come since then. Sometimes he felt like he didn't care at all. He wasn't cut out for parenting and he was anything but gentle. There was nothing he could teach and there was nothing he wanted to teach.
"And it's five thousand years too early for you to be telling me to be careful."