Archer takes a second to see if the jealousy will spark up now, with news like that, but he finds he can only be happy on Adelaide's behalf. Cautiously happy, considering it's complicated. Maybe later, after he's kicked Brannon out of their shared quarters to go hold down the PD fort, when he's allowed a few moments of solitude, Archer will think about the family he's lost. His sisters may be alive; it is far, far more likely that they've perished. That the whole family has, but him. Maybe he will send out a thought to wherever they might be and hope Av and Penny can find each other, the way Adelaide and her brother have found each other now against all odds.
But in this moment, those ghosts aren't even wisps in his brain and those skeletons stay buried; Archer is attentive to Adelaide, watching the microexpressions crossing her face and paying not the slightest bit of attention to her working the crust. Just as he let the long pause spool out between them, waiting to be filled with Adelaide's announcement, he lets a few seconds settle comfortably after her words. He continues the slow rock back and forth, Charlie settling into the snuffles of slumber.
He speaks almost reverently into the quiet of the kitchen. "Fuck, Ads," Archer says lowly. "That's great. I'm glad you found him. Complications and all." Family's a course that never does run smooth. There's so much he wants to ask about this brother, the one that doesn't -- or didn't, or what the fuck ever -- like cops, the one that raised up the girl that became the young woman that became Adelaide Lansing. There's so much he wants to ask but Archer muzzles himself because it's complicated. It's complicated and he's her friend, not just some cop right now, and if he's any judge of her demeanor...? This revelation isn't full-on joy. Ads isn't doing a dance around this kitchen with Charlie in her arms.
Because it's complicated.
So Archer doesn't ask, 'Where has he been?' and he doesn't ask 'What has he done that has you looking like that?' or 'What kind of trouble did he used to get into?' or 'What kind of trouble's he in now?' And Archer doesn't ask, 'Where is this brother of yours living?' and he doesn't ask 'When will I get to meet this guy?' or 'Have you told him about Thomas? or Charlie?' and he definitely doesn't ask, 'Have you told him about your cop pals?' Later on, maybe Archer will look back at this moment, where he rifled through those questions and purposely set them aside, and he'll wish he'd said or done something differently. But he is cautiously happy for her, cautious of the territory they're wading into, and just far too worn to swim out too deep.
With a slight smile that begs forgiveness for his pause to gather his thoughts, Archer asks the first of two questions he thinks he can ask: "Your brother. Is he doing okay?"
And he follows it up with the second: "And how're you doin'?"