Re: [quicklog: micah c, neil d, cris m, louis d]
[Like the others, Neil knew it wasn't Sam. The real Sam was back at the penthouse, in another door, with a nurse. He and Cris had just left her there. So no, this wasn't Sam. It was a fake, a wish gone wrong and projected back on to the one who'd wished in a very literal sense. He wasn't stupid, he knew what Micah must have wished for to have it backfire as such. He knew it was Micah because he trusted that Louis was certain, despite what he was capable of, despite the cult and everything he could still barely wrap his head around, he was sure of that one thing. Funnily enough, he trusted his brother; at least in that regard. And he wasn't afraid of him. Not here. Not now.
He moved closer to Louis, watching as Cris approached Micah and pretended to be fooled. Why, he didn't understand. What was the point?] No, it's not her. [His voice was low, and his gaze was fixed on the doppelganger.] Sam is in my door. She's safe. That's Micah. [It wasn't a question. Neil reached into his jacket and felt for the coolness of the gun, oddly soothed by its presence. Cris could pretend, if he liked. In the meantime he was measuring just how quickly he could get off a shot if Micah tried something, contemplating accuracy and angles and all sorts of things.
In truth, he was tired of the man. Tired of Micah's reign of terror and his cowardice. Pretending to fall for his pretense seemed like too much effort; killing him would end everything. He wanted it to end.]