[ This isn't quite enough for Will to pick up on what's implied - or rather, he thinks he does, because he's blinded by the intuition that this is a shared experience. He nods, looking down out of the camera's view. ] I didn't really feel like myself, either.

[ It's an admission, shared lowly.

And then he sighs and shifts back a bit in the kitchen chair he's seated at, looking away for several moments before returning his gaze to the phone's screen. ] I'm not the only one staying here right now. [ Will closes his eyes during this next, brief smile. ]

But for-- several reasons, I'm not disclosing who else is here or what they...can or can't do. [ Will has someone with powers at his home, the kind that don't exist where he's from, is what he means to imply. ] That wouldn't really...support the idea of keeping people safe. If they come here.

[ Will shrugs, lips pressed thin. ] At least one of them does. [ The excuse to deal just in implication is one he'll happily take advantage of.

But then, he's not the only one implying things. Will blinks and tilts his head to the side, mouth open a moment before he speaks. ] So— hang on. If you have powers, they're on the fritz.

What are you offering that you're assuming I don't have, exactly? [ If he sounds a bit snappy, that's...because he is. Reasonably or not. ]

Not military. [ He shakes his head, and finally seems at least-- somewhat mollified. That's a better answer than 'I was a gun-nut back home and my doomsday shelter qualifies me for armed combat scenarios', by far.

It also means this is the first time Will's actually fully forthcoming about his own work history, because he clarifies without further prompting. ] I used to work with the state police, and then I— switched into the FBI.

[ Will can't guess just from her expression which of them's killed more people, but...he has a feeling it's her. He can't decide if he's reassured or not at the thought. ]

...Still not about to offer you a job, though, sorry. I don't think I've got a line in my budget to cover 'years of military and combat experience'.

I think a lot of us are playing fast and loose with what we were trained to do, and the...reality of what's being asked of us here. [ And/or not asked of them. It's odd, being temporarily jobless after years of constantly being 'on', professionally-speaking.

He sighs. As much as Will doesn't actually, in fact, like the idea of people swarming his home...he does really consider this. ] How about this: we'll still say I owe you a favor, but I'll just call you if we need. Backup. [ """backup""" aka "if we get swarmed" ]

So far everyone here is also armed, we're not guarding any...civilians yet. Too many cooks in the kitchen might attract more attention than it's worth, at least until someone takes us up on the offer for shelter.

[ Will shrugs. It's less that he actually has no fear of death — he's got plenty — and more that there's an instinct not to give in when challenged. ]

I guess we'll find out.

[ He hesitates right before cutting off the video, hand clearly outstretched to touch the button on his phone. ] ...Thanks for the input. [ It's flat, but it doesn't sound sarcastic. ]

[ That's definitely more information than Will expected to see handed over, but his response to that is curiosity, not revulsion. He blinks, unbalanced, and only then processes what was actually shared. ]

That's the nice thing about growing up. You get to choose which of your parents' mistakes to take with you. [ Not that it's ever quite that simple, but... Will didn't grow up with dogs either. Poverty's a bitch like that, and he feels an unexpected connection at the idea of moving around all the time growing up, too.

Looks like there's more than just fashion choices in common, here. ]

And like magpies, they're remembering your face and coming after you for another round? [ Will's gaze flicks over the scratches on the other's face. ] You sure you don't need help?

[ That comment - the lack of choice - hits something else personal. Will doesn't remark on it, but his expression flickers plenty, flattening down.

Will-- watches the other for a few moments, when he's reassured that he doesn't need help. It's long enough that it's just past awkward, just past the point most people would feel pressed to talk or excuse why they're staring. Will's just...making sure this man means it.

And he really does seem to. Clearly Will isn't the only one with self-confidence in defending himself hidden under an exterior that doesn't look immediately militant. Will's expression animates again, just a little - right at the corners of his mouth, just barely turning back up.

It reaches his eyes, at least. ] Not a bad plan.

[ A beat, and then-- ] Is that your real name? Your username.

[ Will nods. He sees the slight pupil dilation, the fact that something in this exchange is momentarily new and a little threatening — Will believes him that it's his name. ]

Nice to meet you, Sam. [ And maybe it's borrowing from the professional language of endless handshakes at conferences, but Will means it when he says it.

Despite the headway made here — an offer for help in return for Will's own offer of that — Will isn't anticipating that at the end. Adult connection instead of just a business-like exchange of skills and protection. Will's surprise is clear ok his face - lips parted without a word, eyebrows raised. He sits back just a bit further in his chair in that brief moment. ]

—Yeah. Yeah, okay, I'll...see if the fog lifts enough for. Non-emergency visits.

[ Despite the stilted speech, Will's touched. Almost suspicious, reflexively wanting to back off to process this before pursuing it, but touched. He's already reaching for his phone to cut off the call. ] ...Thanks.