Sparkle nodded. Nodded and leaned back, finally, and made another reach for the olives. One was going to get into his mouth eventually if it killed him, at this point.

"Yeah. And I... don't. Really. I gave up my reputation when I fucking ran, like four years ago, and that's gonna get thrown at me too. Lew's been out there probably, like, fucking kissing babies," phrasing intentional, "and trying to make himself look like a saint ever since and I've been a fugitive. Right through the gate I'm not in a good place. And people are going to want to know why I didn't throw this back on Lew sooner and all sorts of shit I'm going to have to justify, I know. And Lew..."

He sighed.

"He's made for war."

Sparkle had told him such himself, once.

That had been an ugly talk, too.

He shrugged.