Neal looks down at his tea, smiling wryly. "You should meet Peter. My supervisory agent. He'd like you."

He has to think about it. How to answer Malcolm. How much to say, how much to give. Pondering why violence upsets him has never been a priority--it's violence. It should be upsetting, and he's not one to dwell on the unpleasant. At least he tries not to.

He starts to speak, stops, starts again. "The world isn't fair. It's not just. It's not kind." He takes a drink of the tea to buy himself time to think. He's tired, exposed, and homesick, which makes the honesty feel all the more raw. "It doesn't have to be ugly, too."