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[ It's infuriating how much sense that makes. He just huffs as they make their way upstairs, stomach still twisting. ]

I fuckin' hope not. [ Ugh, god, the wood creaking in the stairs is awful. ] Yeah, yeah... I'll eat something. Just gimme a bit.

[ He thinks there might be one last bullet in his gut causing trouble. Maybe it was the one that really would have killed him... did kill him?

Fuck. Quick, move on— ]

You got clothes I can borrow?

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