For all that Vasquez thinks they've come a long way since that first meeting, there are times like this when it feels like Faraday is the living, breathing nails on chalkboard that can drive him crazy. Deliberately, meanly, he drinks all the rest of what's left in Faraday's flask before he throws it to the bed, thinking it's dirty play, bringing up the warrant.

"Then I guess you don't want a man who got his face on a warrant watching your back," he spits out, as if the words have been steeped in bitterness and anger, not sure if he's genuinely angry or just hurt at the implication that killing the ranger had been stupid of him in that way. He doesn't regret it, he never will. "For the best," he says, glaring at Faraday. "You'd probably just end up on a wanted poster beside mine, si Because I cannot take care of myself, because I killed a man who deserved it."