Vasquez returns that comment with a look of derision, seeing as he doesn't actually think that what Faraday did really constitutes taking care of yourself by any stretch of the imagination and the flat look he gives in return (mimicking Faraday's, to the point of annoyance, he hopes), should say as much. For just a second, before he goes to reach for the flask, the rough touch of hands makes it seem like time freezes and stretches out around him.
Someone could shoot a bullet at him and he wouldn't do anything but stand there and take it, frozen in place by something as sticky as molasses and twice as tempting. He laughs, enough that his shoulders shake, for the thrown card, ducking out of the way, but that laugh is gone soon enough when Faraday says what he does.
He sniffs heavily and shrugs, trying to pass it off like it doesn't worry him. As if he doesn't keep looking over his shoulder, twitching at every cocked gun, worrying that someone is going to see that poor likeness and put two and two together to get their money. "Who's going to protect me, guero, hmm?" he retorts. "Someone who would sooner have their pockets lined with cash. Everyone can be bought, they just need to be desperate enough," he adds darkly.
That, and there are others he wouldn't want to burden with his bounty, because it puts them in the line of danger. It would be too much, too much for anyone to be asked, no matter what he wants. He'll just keep living in denial, telling himself it won't ache when he parts ways with all of them (and some specific people, in particular).
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Someone could shoot a bullet at him and he wouldn't do anything but stand there and take it, frozen in place by something as sticky as molasses and twice as tempting. He laughs, enough that his shoulders shake, for the thrown card, ducking out of the way, but that laugh is gone soon enough when Faraday says what he does.
He sniffs heavily and shrugs, trying to pass it off like it doesn't worry him. As if he doesn't keep looking over his shoulder, twitching at every cocked gun, worrying that someone is going to see that poor likeness and put two and two together to get their money. "Who's going to protect me, guero, hmm?" he retorts. "Someone who would sooner have their pockets lined with cash. Everyone can be bought, they just need to be desperate enough," he adds darkly.
That, and there are others he wouldn't want to burden with his bounty, because it puts them in the line of danger. It would be too much, too much for anyone to be asked, no matter what he wants. He'll just keep living in denial, telling himself it won't ache when he parts ways with all of them (and some specific people, in particular).