"Jesus," he quietly exclaims, his hand now lifting to his face. He rubs it.

"No," he replies to her saying how great it is the Fireflies found them, that maybe it was a misunderstanding, an accident. He holds his hand up at her, indicating for her to stop right the fuck there, and he says in a louder, almost angry voice, "No."

And for a moment, he stares down at her hard, anguish hidden beneath his weather-worn face. But then, the looks down with a weary shake of his head. "Look, it ain't like that, kiddo. Alright? It weren't no accident, no misunderstanding."