Maybe if he wasn't trying so fucking hard to keep his head above water, Archer would see this careless act for the front it was. But he was tired and he was feeling Brannon's lack of faith in him and it fucking rankled. And maybe it wouldn't if there wasn't just enough reason behind it. If he didn't know all the ways he was wrong, the places he'd screwed up that got them here.
But it was a two way street and it appeared Brannon had taken to sulking and seething instead of fucking talking to him. Maybe if he'd had Bran backing him all this way, he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed. Since when had his pal ever doubted him so completely? Since he reached out to take the badge, it felt like. Like he hadn't approved of Archer for stepping up and doing what he had to do, so he wasn't gonna stick around and be there for when Archer was ready to say he was in over his head, that he needed help, that no matter how fast he paddled or how much he thrashed, the water was closing in over his head.
Archer straightened in the doorway, took a step into the smaller room. Then another. "Supposedly?" he repeated, incredulity staining the word. "The fuck?!"