( listen. he's pretty sure that's a completely reasonable response, not just given the circumstances but because he's gotten used to glossing over all the weird garbage that happens to them, and expounding on all the things that are going on in his head right now might not be a good idea. he's still processing all of this, and he's going to need like maybe five minutes for his brain to catch up with flaming-anti-klaus-throwing-bits-of-coal thing.

he'll get there. don't worry.

he stalls a bit when the other starts picking up the coal, peering down at all that he'd dropped when keith had mentioned his bayard — which he also dismisses, because maybe he'd forgotten he was still holding it, but that's neither here nor there — and he stoops down to start picking it back up, a strange lump forming in the back of his throat. like he feels like something is wrong.

( because it is, but of course he won't figure out what it is for a while yet. ) ) My phone, right. Haven't had a chance to check it. ( he stalls, fingers curled around a lump of coal, and he steals a surreptitious glance in keith's direction. won't keep you longer than that. why does that sting as much as it does? )

How, uh. Hard is it to find places to stay around here? ( if you're not expecting to keep him, he'd probably best find some place of his own. ) I don't want to be in your way more than I have to, but. Thanks. ( for getting him somewhere safe, first. )