Marco watched Juno, making sure the knife stayed with her, even when she hid it behind her back. It would be okay if she kept it, because he trusted her most. They had stopped existing together, once, and that had been really nice. In another moment, he might have recognized that he'd been getting worse since the island. Now here here was, paranoid and mumbling.
"No, no, I don't want to go in there, you're going to lock me in there. You're... You're not going to lock me up. Okay? I know you guys think I'm bad, but I'm not a murderer, okay? I'm not." He stopped to point up to the painted word, then grimaced as he looked back at the ground. He shook his head as he mumbled to himself, a collection of things that weren't connected to the situation at all apart from being bad things. "...you know, Oklahoma City, Hurricane Katrina, Blackfish, you guys can't lock me up for any of that stuff, either, okay? That was you guys. I didn't mean to kill Liam or anything." He shifted uncomfortably, then slid both hands over his ears and sat back down on the ground.