There's never been any comfort in ignorance for him; the idea that people are holding back to spare his feelings is not nearly as disturbing as the fact that he's kind of grateful for it. He's gotta get his shit together, he knows. It's just been easier to look ahead: to plan for how they're gonna keep Maggie safe, how he's gonna keep from getting snatched up by the Saviors again, how they're gonna wipe that smug fuck off the map til no one remembers his fucking name.

(He's fine, though. No lasting effects.)

"She's good," he says, even though it's not true. As well as anyone could be, after that, would be more accurate. I can barely bring myself to face her. Aaron will know what he means, at least most of it. "Baby's doin' all right, I heard."

And that's the only consolation they get.