There's a reason he gave her that warning. He holds her gaze, and watches as she seems to know exactly what he meant by it. There's no need to tell her what he'd be willing to do if it meant getting his family home, or what he's already done to make it this far. Although one look at him and she can see how it's worn him down. It should have been over by now. Somehow his plans have always backfired, and it's been setback after setback.
Back when he first jumped to 2019, he was naive. He'd handed away his humanity just to get to that point, and yet he'd barely had a plan once he was there. He really thought just being with his family with his one clue would be enough to change the timeline and avert the apocalypse. The Handler called it a fantasy, and he's still chasing it.
He recognizes that part of himself in Emilia. It's in the way she smiles at him that seems to say she knows what it means to have something so important, that there's no limit to what you might do.
"Tomorrow," he agrees with a nod. At least a handful of them know that he wouldn't make the same mistake again. He considers the bottle, and the rum that's likely in short supply, and gestures with it. "Mind if I keep this?"
Dolores never liked it when he drank this much, but it helps to dull his rage, and the frustration that might have boiled over otherwise. It was one of the few vices he could indulge in in the apocalypse, whenever he was lucky enough in his scavenging. He doesn't know if Emilia recognized that need, or if she just thought he could use something to take the edge off, but he's grateful either way.
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Back when he first jumped to 2019, he was naive. He'd handed away his humanity just to get to that point, and yet he'd barely had a plan once he was there. He really thought just being with his family with his one clue would be enough to change the timeline and avert the apocalypse. The Handler called it a fantasy, and he's still chasing it.
He recognizes that part of himself in Emilia. It's in the way she smiles at him that seems to say she knows what it means to have something so important, that there's no limit to what you might do.
"Tomorrow," he agrees with a nod. At least a handful of them know that he wouldn't make the same mistake again. He considers the bottle, and the rum that's likely in short supply, and gestures with it. "Mind if I keep this?"
Dolores never liked it when he drank this much, but it helps to dull his rage, and the frustration that might have boiled over otherwise. It was one of the few vices he could indulge in in the apocalypse, whenever he was lucky enough in his scavenging. He doesn't know if Emilia recognized that need, or if she just thought he could use something to take the edge off, but he's grateful either way.
For that and for understanding. It's not easy.