[over a million possible outcomes, each processed and disregarded in an instant. he's left with twelve-- another seven set aside. five left. no, three now. to accept it and move on, or to let this play out. to let his anger take the lead, or to hold back, despite knowing how this will end.

not that he really needed the computer to work that one out.

quite why the computer has finally sprung in to life over this, he doesn't know. doesn't want to analyse why the crosshairs (should be a halo. not a target) are shining so brightly right now. this isn't any different to any other...heated conversation that they've had before.

his body is tense as he shoves apollo away from him. barely a fraction of his strength, but a warning nonetheless. he's doing his best to retrain himself. to stick to the only option left that doesn't result in a real fight. that doesn't have the two of them at odds with each other. apollo is all he has here, and he knows he can't afford to drive him away again.]

So, what? You get to go down there while I sit at home playing housewife? Fuck that. [one more outcome removed then.] You know me better than that. I'm not doing it. I'm not sitting on my ass and waiting for you to come back. Either I go with you-- [well, his or isn't something he really wants to think about.]