Jason grins back, not flinching when her fingers drag along the scar he hates most of all, her smile more than bright enough to chase any shadows away. "I was a little shit," he laughs, but he's proud of that, too. He'd been what he needed to be to survive - it's a talent that's never left him, even if it's gotten him into a hell of a lot of trouble.

"But, um," he says, sobering a little. "If he ever really does come here, don't expect a happy reunion." In case that hadn't been obvious when Jason pulled his gun. "We don't get along anymore."