"I know," He says, and keeps his voice quiet, deep, disguising it from Tim. Tim, who has heard him laugh and joke and somber and moan and come. It's almost painful, thinking about this sort of thing right now.

He can't. He has to just block it out. He needs to focus. Tim is already causing him trouble in that department, it seems.

"There's a storm coming, Gutterson. A black sky. Be careful."

That's all he asks. For Tim to be careful.