[He can't help it -- he stops, exhaling in relief, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. And while this is good news, somewhat... well, it still feels kind of like the memory of shoving a sword inside Scott's stomach.]
Okay. Okay. [...] I'll-- I'll talk to him. Or you, or someone, just... just let him know it wasn't me. I wouldn't-- [He bites his lip, shaking his head a little, not bothering to finish the sentence.]