He's really going to make Vasquez talk about this. Here he'd thought that he could escape, that it wouldn't actually come down to this, but then Faraday has to go and talk about what it is that Vasquez is missing out on. He could write a list, but the first and last point would be about the man sitting across from him.

Vasquez enjoys his head where it is, of course, so he's not going to do that. Still, he's going to have to say something or end up storming out and he's still eating, so he's not leaving until he's had his fill. "My parents, they had love," he says, sharing something that he hasn't told anyone. "To my father, my mother was his corazon, his everything. No matter what was taken from us, they had each other and they had me and my sisters. I grew up scared of that, because why would you want a person that you could never escape."

Then he'd met someone to make him realize it just takes the right person. He hates that he can't turn it off, hates that he still wants it.

"Sex is easy," he says dismissively, "giving your whole heart to someone and having them hold it in turn, keep them warm, love them," he exhales, thinking that it's not a life he'll ever get. "I don't know that. The best I've ever done is ..." Well, the best he's ever done is here, now. Settled by Faraday's bedside and waiting for him to heal, putting his hands on him to heal him, taunting and teasing him until he's falling over with laughter.

Shrugging, he lets that sentence fall away. "You're telling me you never wanted to be with someone as more than just sex?" he asks, even though he wishes he hadn't, because he's sure he won't like the answer, no matter what it is.