[He tries, again, not to react, but he's never been great at self-restraint, and the dual anger and guilt flash across his face before he can stop them. He wants to protest for a second, because he's not a murderer, he's not like that, but--
--fuck it, he is, right? Maybe the guy gets it better than he does. So he swallows the guilt and shakes his head coolly, his voice falling into the blank flatness it's been teasing this whole time.]
I got no plans to. [Not since both him and Richie got wardened up, anyway.] Just keeping my head down, looking after my people, that's all I got in mind.
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