Every scrap of paper, every crisp bag, every weapon… everything they'd found in the abandoned shop short of what had been overflowing from the loo was spread out across the boardroom table. It was ridiculous how much of it there was. Hart spread out the papers. He picked up a few receipts, trying to read them. He was still having trouble with written English. He passed the slips of paper to Ianto who was helping Gwen with her geographic profile. Fish and Henry were still working with the CCTV footage. Hart stood up and took off his red jacket, draping it over the back of the chair.

At that point, Miranda caught sight of the bandage, ragged and stained with dried blood. She said, sternly, "That bandage needs changing, Captain."

Hart shook his head. "It's fine. Just itches a bit."

"It will only take a moment," she insisted.

Jack, hearing the dispute, craned his neck. He gave Hart a bit of a glare and said, "Let her patch you up, John."

Reluctantly, Hart followed Miranda into the autopsy bay. He tugged the stained t-shirt up over his head, dropping it in a pile on the table.

"Can we hurry this up, Dollface?" he asked, impatient.

Miranda slid the scissor under the gauze wrap and began to cut. The wound was barely two days old but it was healing well. The bruising was fading already. His scent was strong in her nose and she felt a little breathless.

"Have you had any pain? Any numbness or tingling in your fingers? Decreased range of motion to your arm?" she asked.

"No," he said with a rueful shake of his head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me, Dollface."

She heard the smallest itch of truth in the flippant and mildly sarcastic tone. That was when she finally saw the way he was looking at her. There was a gentle hope in his eyes. He was giving her a small smile that tugged at her heart. The sudden urge to reach up and touch his face came over her. She swallowed. She'd no idea how any of this had happened, really. This man had crept under her skin without her even realising it.

"Your trial period will be over soon," she said, trying to be nonchalant about it.

Trying to be as nonchalant about it as she was, Hart said flatly, "Hadn't thought about it."

Miranda opened up some nonstick pads and put some salve onto them. She held them against his wounds and began bandaging around them. She swallowed past a small lump in her throat. There was no need for her to replace the bandage. She could have left the wounds uncovered but she was using it as a ruse to keep him here with her… alone. Her voice carefully neutral, she asked, "Would you like to stay on past your one month?"

He didn't answer her for a while. He sat there on the cold metal of the table, watching her wrap the gauze around his arm. The delicate scent of woodsmoke and jasmine was coming off of her. Her hair shined in the light. She was so radiant. A small lump formed in his throat. After she snipped the gauze and taped the end, she stepped back, waiting for an answer. She gave him a weak smile and handed him back his t-shirt. He took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers. He saw her eyes dilate at the contact. So he made a leap of faith; the first one of his life.

"Who's asking the question? Torchwood's second? Or you, Miranda?" he asked, quietly.

It was the first time he'd referred to her by name. The moment stretched between them. Miranda let go of the t-shirt, sliding her hand up onto Hart's. She took a leap of her own.

"I'm asking," she answered.

"I knew you'd come round eventually," Hart said, with a self satisfied tone.

"Liar," she teased, smiling.

Hart reached up, brushing his fingers down he cheek. He leaned at the same moment she did. Before his lips could reach hers…

"Hey Evie…" Fish trailed off as he took in the awkward scene. Oops… He cleared his throat and blushed. He said, "Gwen's found something. It's a badge for Welsh Water. We think it's their next target. You said they sometimes interrupted utilities, John."

The moment had imploded. There was nothing in the void between Hart and Miranda than awkwardness. She turned away from Hart and reached for her sword. "Who's car this time?"

"Mine. Everyone's heading down to the garage now," Fish said as Miranda ran past him. Hart was still putting his t-shirt back on. Fish waited for him and the two went to the garage together. He gave Hart a look of apology that was ignored.

The drive to the water plant was quick, it wasn't far from the Hub. Fish took out his handheld scanner as they all gathered by the front entrance. There was a van hopped up onto the kerb. Ianto and Henry approached it, guns raised. After a nod from Ianto, Henry opened the van's back door, it was empty.

"This van was reported stolen earlier today, Jack," Gwen said as she read the display from her PDA. "About half an hour after we stormed the shop."

Hart was already fiddling with his wrist strap as he approached the doorway. He held the main door open as everyone piled inside.

"Excuse me!" the guard shouted.

"Torchwood," Jack said, holding up his hand. "Anyone been through here you haven't recognised?"

He jerked his hand over his shoulder. "Routine maintenance team went downstairs about ten minutes ago without a repair request. Why?"

Hart reached for the fire alarm, breaking the glass and pulling on the lever. He turned towards Fish, "Make sure the locals don't get that."

"Oi! You can't do that!" the guard shouted.

Ianto started making the appropriate phone calls. "We may still need local police and fire wardens."

Fish caught only half of what the Ianto said after that, something about faulty alarm systems, he was possibly already concocting a cover story. Ianto was a master at Torchwood's creative PR. Fish brought up a few floor plans. "Jack? Through those doors, down the hallway at the end, the door on our right is a staircase. There are two levels beneath us."

Jack pointed at the guard and then the door. "Evacuate the building. Which way did that maintenance team go?"

The guard pointed at the door to his left. "Downstairs somewhere. I don't know. There's nothing else down that hall."

"Right. Ianto, Fish and I will take the first basement. Henry, Will, Gwen and John? You four take the second one down. You find anything, you radio for backup. These guys don't care about collateral damage. Got it?"

Everyone nodded and they all took off down the hallway, drawing their weapons. They ignored the stunned look of the workers who passed them, exiting the building. Fish felt the adrenaline pumping in his veins as he, Ianto and Jack burst through the door of the first basement level while the others continued descending. It was dim, there seemed to be only emergency lighting.

"Fish? Take right, Ianto, left. I'll go down the middle. Stay on comms," Jack said, aiming his Webley in front of him and advancing slowly.

The room was hot and humid. There was nothing but pipes and large tanks. It was a typical factory basement. Fish wasn't quite sure what he was looking for. The trio of men had barely gotten halfway down the room when the distant sound of gunshots echoed up the stairway. Fish heard Jack shouting through his comm piece but soon, he hadn't needed it. Jack's voice rose with each name to a shout.

"What's going on guys? Gwen? Will? Somebody answer me! Henry? John? Talk to me! NOW!"

There was nothing but the sound of Ianto's dress shoes and Jack's boots on the concrete as the three of them raced for the stairway door and down the stairs to the next level. Fish was nearly in a panic about Henry. Desperate to reach his lover, he reached for the door handle about to yank it open. Jack put his hand up on the door, stopping him from opening it. He put his finger to his lips and shifted in front of him.

"You know the rules, Fish," he whispered.

The two immortal men moved in front of him. After four years in Torchwood, he still hated it. Over the years, he'd lost count as to how many times he owed his life to Jack and Miranda. In the months since Ianto had become immortal, Fish now owed his life to the Welshman dozens of times over and Fish had cut back on his field time. Nearly every time one of the immortal team members had saved his life, they had been fatally wounded in the process.

Suddenly, Miranda's voice was in his ear. "There's four. John's hit. The Duke-"

Miranda's voice abruptly stopped as the sound of another gunshot rang out through the air, leaving no question as to what happened to his teammate.

The two immortals advanced into the room slowly, their guns drawn and raised. While they took the risks, they were far from brazen about it. The immortals all knew that they could protect no one if they were waiting to revive. Once the two men were a few meters inside the room, Fish followed, his own gun raised. He swallowed convulsively as he saw Henry's legs jutting out from between two large tanks. No sooner had he crossed the doorway than a shot rang out and Jack crumpled to the ground. Ignoring his fallen lover, Ianto aimed and fired. The alien, a humanoid, dressed head to toe in the now familiar black tactical gear took cover, disappearing from view.

Fish took cover behind a small tank. Years as a field operative had taught him to control his fear and suppress his impulses. The strongest impulse was his desire to run straight for Henry. It was another standing protocol. If one of the immortal team members is injured or killed, abandon them. A low groan escaped Jack's lips. Jesus… he's still alive… He tore his eyes away from Jack, trying to ignore the painful moans and gurgling sounds coming from the man as he died. He saw Ianto continuing to advance slowly, seeking occasional cover. Seeing no threat, he moved forward to the next tank, ducking behind it.

A scraping noise behind him caught his attention, Fish whirled around, saw the black clad figure raising its own weapon at him. Fish aimed and fired… and missed, hitting the alien being in the shoulder. A howl escaped its lips… It was a high pitched sound unlike any he'd ever heard. The being dropped back a few steps, reaching down for something strapped to its leg. Fish didn't hesitate, he took aim again and fired, the bullet entering the alien's head. It fell to the ground with a thud. Three…

His experience allowed him to take only a few deep breaths before continuing to advance. He moved behind the next storage tank and tapped his comm piece and whispered, "Three, there are three…"

He heard a harsh inhale of breath. Evie! He dropped to his knees, crouching to look under the storage tank. He saw her on the concrete floor at the base of the next storage tank, laying in a pool of blood trying to get to her feet. He crossed over to her quickly.

"Evie? You-" he stopped, looking down at whatever his trainers were sticking in and immediately regretted it. Beneath the rubber soles of his trainers he had felt the crunch of bone and the squish of blood. They had shot her in the head. He swallowed at the macabre sight. "Jesus Christ, Evie…"

She'd already hauled herself to her feet. The hair above her ear was bloody.

"Shhh!" she warned, waving him behind her. The slide of her gun was all the way back, she was out of ammunition. She tossed the empty gun aside and reach into her coat, drawing her sword. Another gunshot rang out and Miranda threw her arm across his chest, pressing him into the tank. Ianto's voice came over the comm.

"Three still… Jack-" And then another gunshot rang out. Fish didn't hear the other team member over the comms. He assumed Ianto was down as well. The sound of scraping was coming towards them.

"Stay here, Fish," she ordered, stepping boldly out into the aisle. He didn't even get a chance to give her his gun. There was the dull thud of fists and Fish couldn't stay hidden in the shadows. He peered around the edge of the tank and saw Miranda grappling with one of the black clad figures. She'd ripped the alien's mask off. His skin was a mottle of olive green and a teal blue. He was almost reptilian in appearance, his nose two slits on his face. Her sword was laying on the ground.

There was another terrorist laying sprawled on the floor. He was completely human looking. Fish hooked his toe under the blade and kicked the sword into the air.

"Evie!" he shouted as she punched her assailant.

She twisted and caught the sword in time to press it to the reptilian's throat just as he aimed his weapon at Fish. The slight delay had allowed the prone human terrorist to draw his own weapon, stand and point it straight at Miranda's back. The adrenaline singing in his veins, Fish pressed his gun to that man's head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, mate," he ordered. Fish narrowed his eyes at the alien Miranda was restraining and said, "Welcome to Earth. Lesson number one? This is what we call a Mexican standoff."

"Throw down," Miranda snapped.

After a few seconds and a shared glance with Fish, Miranda said, "I don't have time for this twaddle."

Fish had never seen anyone move so fast. He could barely follow what happened. With lightning speed and precision, Miranda slit the alien's throat with her sword, the cut going all the way back to its spine. Hot green blood spurted and the blade continued to arc backwards, twisting in Miranda's skilled hands. Fish heard the steel slicing through the air as Miranda sank the blade into the human terrorist's chest. She pushed down on the hilt, causing the blade to slice downward into his abdomen and then she brought her leg up, kicking him off the sword. The minute his body hit the ground, she took off running, blood dripping from the blade. Fish barely had time to register what had happened. He back and forth between both bodies and that Fish noticed the still form of Captain John Hart out of the corner of his eye. He brought his head up. Hart was laying in a pool of blood with Gwen hovering over him. Her hands were coated in blood as she applied pressure to Hart's wounds. Fish bolted in their direction.

Miranda nodded to the other woman and the two of them grabbed Hart by the coat, dragging him between some tanks to relative safety. Gwen jerked her head towards the hallway and held up one finger.

"I don't have a signal… I can't call for an ambulance," Fish said fumbling with his mobile.

"You can't. The building isn't secure. There's still one more," Miranda whispered. "We don't know what their objective is, Fish. They could be trying to blow up the building."

"Fine, we'll get him upstairs. Help me with him," Fish said, trying to seize Hart under the arms.

"No, Fish," Miranda said stopping him. She pressed his hands onto the wound. "Gwen and I need to pursue the terrorist. Apply pressure and stay with him."

"I'm a chemist, not a doctor, Evie!" Fish gasped.

"The last one went down that hallway. Gwen and I have to pursue him. I can't stay here. We must neutralise the threat," Miranda said, starting to stand. "Gwen? Let's go."

"What if he gets worse?" Fish said, grabbing Miranda by the sleeve. "I'm not going to know what to do! He could die!"

He saw the pain and grief in her eyes as she turned to him. "Yes, he could… and may the Gods guide him to the afterlife."

Fish remembered the moment he interrupted. He'd seen how Hart had looked at Miranda and he saw the mad way they behaved around each other. Fish's own lover was laying dead not ten feet away but Henry would revive. Hart wouldn't. Now Miranda, the only one of them with any significant medical training, had to abandon their critically injured team member. Fish watched her face harden and her eyes turn to ice as Miranda turned away and left him with Hart, taking Gwen with her.

The two women turned a corner, heading in the direction Gwen had seen the last terrorist flee down. One of the doors down the corridor was swinging open. Miranda looked into the doorway, seeing the clear plastic pipes. The alien had just finished hooking up some manner of device around one of those pipes.

"Don't move!" Miranda shouted, using Ekumen. She turned the corner with her gun drawn with Gwen on her heels.

The alien ignored them, completely focused on his task. He continued to tap on the device's control panel, trying to complete what he'd started before they could stop him. Miranda, not willing to repeat herself, nodded at Gwen, who took careful aim and fired. Her bullet landed in his leg and with a squeal, he crumpled to the ground. The device was now out of his reach.

"Not a good listener are you," Gwen sneered.

They approached, Miranda examining the device while Gwen put the plastic restraints on their prisoner. "Gwen? Go and trade places with Fish. I need him to look at this."

Gwen disappeared back out of the hallway. Miranda knew Hart was bleeding to death. She didn't have long to ensure the situation was under control so she could see to his care. If this took too long, Hart would die. She dropped to her knees and tugged his face mask off. He looked mostly human save for the slight greenish hue to his face. He appeared to have no hair whatsoever, not even eyebrows or eyelashes.

"I know you can understand me so I'm going to ask you some questions that you are going to answer," she said, returning to English. Though Hart had been teaching her, she still hadn't mastered the futuristic language and she didn't want him to misunderstand her.

"Your interrogation methods are useless," he spat. "I have been trained against your questions."

"Oh, I'm not the police. I am Torchwood and I am a hundred other names that would make you quake in your shoes," Miranda said. She leaned in and sniffed next to the man's ear. "I smell fear on you. You men from the future - spineless weaklings. Where is your mettle?"

She reached down and dug her thumb into the bullet wound and the man howled. The stench of fear thickened. It's said that smell is the most powerful memory trigger. Miranda remembered deep into her past, thousands of years ago, when that same stench had hung thick through the acrid smell of burning wood and the sweet metallic tang of blood. It had been like a fragrant perfume. Like a child's laughter, the Horseman deep within her bubbled up to the surface.

It wanted to play.

"Ah, the music you make… let's see if we can't produce more notes from you." Miranda dug the dagger out of her boot. Carefully aiming to avoid his major vessels, and plunged it into his other leg and he screamed. "You're off key…"

She twisted the blade slowly and the man screamed louder, the pitch changing. "Better. Now, down to business. Question number one… how many of these devices are there?"

When she didn't receive an answer, she put the tip of her finger on the end of the dagger's hilt and wiggled the blade back and forth. He didn't answer her, only screamed. "I dislike repeating myself."

She stopped wiggling the blade, pinching the hilt between her thumb and forefinger. She twisted while slowly pressing downwards.

"JUST THIS ONE!" the man screamed between clenched teeth.

"Excellent," Miranda said. She removed the small finger blade from her belt and began picking at her cuticle with it. "And how many were in your unit?"

"Thirteen," the man gasped.

"And where are they now?"

"You have one, the dupe of a kid. The others are dead," the man said. "Just us."

"Actually… just you," Miranda said with a smug smile. She used the small blade to slice through the straps holding his body armour in place, one at a time. "Is there more to come? Or is this the end of your plans?"

The man said nothing.

"And we were having such quality conversation," she said with a sigh. She leaned back and furrowed her brow, deciding. She quirked her mouth into a half smile, making a careful selection. She seized his ear lobe and sliced it off with the finger blade. The man screeched and thrashed. She flicked the piece of flesh from her fingers onto the floor.

She said, "Perhaps that will improve your hearing. Is this the last of your plans?"

"YES!" he shouted through clenched teeth.

Miranda heard footsteps in the doorway and she turned to see Fish gaping at her. She gave him a look that told him to keep silent about what he saw. Fish swallowed and did his best to look impassive. He moved into the room to peer at the device attached to the pipe.

"What does this device do?" Miranda asked pointing up at it. When he didn't answer her immediately, she seized his chin, holding the blade level with his eye. She waved it back and forth slightly with each word, speaking as if to a stubborn child. "Do not make me repeat myself."

"It deposits vibrio cholerae into the water supply," he said. Sweat was beginning to pour down his face.

"Cholera?! You want to give the entire city of Cardiff cholera? You swine!" Miranda backhanded the man. "How do we remove it?"

"We have some demands," the man sneered.

"And what about this," she said with a slight chuckle, waving her blade between them, "says you are in a position to make demands?"

Miranda yanked the dagger from the man's leg and then hooked her finger into his mouth, pulling out his cheek. With a sing of steel, she sliced through his cheek. He screamed and fell backwards, flailing on the ground. Blood poured from the facial wound. He coughed a few times, spraying blood into the air.

"A history lesson for you. That is half of a Glasgow smile. Tell me how to remove the device and you will not receive the second half. If you don't tell me how to remove that device, the only thing you will be demanding from me is a swifter death."

Miranda shoved the point of the blade into his face but the man's mouth remained shut. She leaned her knee onto his bullet wounded leg and he screamed. She used the opportunity to slide the blade into the other side of his mouth. His scream abruptly stopped and the man froze with fear. She held it there for a moment, once again looking at him like an impatient parent waiting on a naughty child. She grabbed his chin with her free hand.

"I am at the end of my tether," she said, icily. This time, she angled the blade and it slowly cut into the corner of his mouth while she held his face still. The man screamed and tried to struggle.

Fish watched on, horrified, as it took Miranda nearly a full minute to make the entire cut. He was doing his best to not react to the brutality but he could tell the blood had drained from his face. He'd seen her behave ruthlessly before, sometimes bordering on cruel, but never anything like this. He felt his stomach turn. She was enjoying herself. He remembered what Tom had said to him once…The only other person who made the hair stand up on the back of my neck like her was some guy we caught eating his mother bit by bit from his fucking freezer…

She leaned back, tilting her head. "Slightly uneven. Shall we correct it?"

The man merely panted from the ground. He sobbed as he tried to back away from her, kicking his legs against the floor.

"Isn't hypovolemia a fascinating thing?" she said leaning down. "There are four stages… In stage one you barely notice, your vasculature constricts and your pallor and vital signs are normal. In stage two, that isn't enough and you can no longer maintain your cardiac output. Your heart starts to race. Your breathing increases. You start to sweat and feel anxious and restless; all signs that mimic an adrenaline rush but in fact it's your body's sympathetic nervous system screaming that you're slowly dying… Ponder it."

After digging his translating bud out of his ear, Miranda stood up. She transitioned seamlessly, calmly asking Fish, "Can you remove this thing?"

She tapped at her comm unit to activate it. He still didn't answer her and she repeated, "Fish?"

He looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. He cleared his throat, trying to tune out the sobbing man at his feet. "No, I think it's booby trapped. If I try to remove it, it's going to go off."

"Jack? Henry? Anyone?" Miranda said.

"Miranda? Vera doesn't look so good," Gwen said in her ear.

Miranda took that information in, feeling the rage bubble up inside her. She knew where to use it… the piece of meat on the floor. "We're all clear, Gwen. There are no more terrorists in the building. Fish and I are working on neutralising the current threat. When someone revives, have them call an ambulance for Captain Hart. Send one of them down here with my medical kit… if possible. Ryan out."

She turned to Fish and indicated the clear plastic pipe the device was attached to. "What about the pipe? What if we cut around it?"

"I don't know. We may not have time. I can't tell when it's supposed to go off," Fish said. "We need to alert the public."

"The message won't get out to everyone in time. Cholera is a gruesome and horrific way to die. It will devastate the young and the old. There will be chaos. Stores will run out of bottled water and people will panic… rioting… social disorder…" Miranda said. She pressed her mouth into a thin line. "Let me try our friend again."

Fish grabbed her arm, dragging her towards the door and into the hallway. He understood he couldn't undermine her position with their prisoner but he wasn't going to walk away while she tortured this man, possibly to death. "Evie, this is sick. You're torturing him."

"Yes, I am," she said, simply, "and when I'm done with him. I am going to kill him."

"Evie!" Fish said.

"Don't, Joe," she snapped and he recoiled at the sound of his name from her mouth. "This man can never face twenty first century justice nor can we send him back to his own time to face justice there. Torchwood dispenses its own justice… and so do I."

She went back into the room and knelt. She dropped the bud into the man's ear. "I hope your biology lesson was enlightening."

"Fuck you," he spat. The words were slurred from the deformed mouth.

"Wow, over two thousand years and they still have 'fuck you'. I suppose that like the great white shark, the best don't need to evolve," she smiled. She sighed, disappointed. "This has been fun and I have enjoyed reliving the more sordid aspects of my past but I'm afraid I don't have time to listen to you anymore."

Miranda picked up her dagger again. "Now, answer me true and I will spare your life."

"And if I don't?"

Miranda flashed him a cruel smile. "I'm guessing you have enough medical or biological knowledge to know what will happen if I bury this dagger into your belly avoiding your vital organs and vessels… perhaps nicking your bladder."

The man shivered and terror flashed across his face.

"Belly wounds are quite painful. The intestines are so full of nerves. The urine will scald your internal organs. Bacteria from your gut will colonise, feeding on the urea. Septicemia will set in followed by multi system organ failure," she said, tracing the tip of the dagger along the man's belly, "but that will take time. You will smell your insides rotting long before the fever consumes your wits."

Miranda paused for dramatic effect, tilting her head at the man. "I await your answer at the earliest convenience, which, in case you were wondering, is now."

"You need to remove the bacterial cartridge," he said, his voice shaking.

Miranda stopped Fish from reaching for the panel. "I'll do it, Fish. I don't want you to risk infecting yourself get back upstairs and see to Captain Hart."

Fish fled the room, glad to leave the appalling scene. Miranda thought she heard the faint sound of retching as he fled.

"Now what?" she asked after she'd opened the panel. She scrutinised the man's face, watching his every movement.

"The cartridge isn't meant to be manually ejected. You need to cross wire the circuit to open the access panel and then you'll have to cut the tubes. Cut the green wire and the purple wire then splice them to each other," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. She saw nothing but fear and pain. With care, she sliced through both wires with her dagger. After she stripped the insulation, she carefully spliced them and waited. A red light on the device went off and another panel slid open. She bent forward and peered in. There was a small white cylinder with a powdered material in it. There was a clear tube on either end. She used her finger blade to slice through the tubing and removed the cylinder.

Just as she started to examine it, Jack came around the corner, carrying Miranda's medical kit. He looked at the bleeding man and then Miranda and cocked an eyebrow.

"Everything under control here, Will?"

"It is now, correct?" she asked looking down at the black clad man.

The man nodded and started to cry.

"Your cooperation has been appreciated," Miranda said. She took her medical case from Jack and opened it. She depositing the cylinder into a sealed bag and then plunged a syringe of morphine into the bleeding man's thigh. She wrapped a tourniquet around each of his his legs and started fluids. She even placed a basic bandage around his head, to staunch the bleeding from the facial wounds.

"That should help with the pain. You can turn him over to UNIT, Jack. I don't know if there is more intelligence we can extract from him," she said, leaving the room.

Jack followed her out into the hallway, out of earshot. "You know I don't mind a little strong arming, Will, but that?"

"I got the job done, Jack," she snapped.

"By torturing him?" he asked.

Miranda narrowed her eyes at him. Jack's own past was far from laudable. "Would you like for me to fill out an authorisation form next time?"

"Will-"

"The device was already hooked into the water supply. Goddess below, do you know how many people it would have killed had it gone off?"

"You know these methods are a last resort," Jack said. "Ends and means, Will."

"We were there, Jack. I wasn't being indulgent," she said. "There wasn't time."

"You mean John didn't have time," Jack countered. He added quickly when he saw the look on Miranda's face. "He's still alive. The ambulance left a few minutes ago."

She was about to open her mouth when he pointed his finger in her face. "Don't. Go take care of him. And you get your head on straight, Will. We've all got this."