Away from the building, secluded place, costume off. He starts walking.

Stupid Nine copycat. Stupid Piggot. Stupid power. Stupid cape business. Goddamnit this isn't a good day, why did Piggot thought it was a good day after he had to look at a full building of people who'd hanged themselves? And of course it'll turn out that they didn't, really, it's all a trick to make it look like something Nice Guy could've done, just like all other times, and this is terrible and annoying and he kinda wishes he had someone who isn't neck deep in this bucket of shit to talk to.

Gosh, like who?

...

He texts Chelsea: I'm kinda down and need someone to talk to who isn't related to the reason I'm kinda down, are you by any chance free and willing to listen to me not-whine?

Yeah, sure, I'm done with this tour group in five, where are you?

He rattles off an address and suggests a meeting point as well as the bus station closest to it.

I'll be there ASAP.

Thank you.

And he goes there and waits for her.

She's there shortly and she sweeps off the bus and pulls him into a hug.

Hug!

...he clings a little.

"Oh you poor dear." Snuggle.

Snuggle snuggle. He doesn't actually cry, but he sighs a little into the hug. And it never occurs to him that this might have been comfort he could've sought from Bella.

Eventually he pulls away. "Thanks. Wow, I needed that."

"I give good hugs," says Chelsea.

"You very much do." That was probably one of the best hugs he ever got. "That was probably one of the best hugs I ever got."

"What's your preferred distraction?"

"Um, I don't know, I didn't actually plan this out, I just sorta..." He gestures vaguely.

"Well, we can just walk," she suggests.

"Yeah, walking's good," especially with someone not involved in the whole thing, "especially with someone not connected to it all."

"Did you want to talk about it, or...?"

It would be good, wouldn't it? Getting an outside perspective on it. Not the classified parts, of course, but just being able to tell someone else. On the other hand, it is kinda secret. Except he doesn't really even have a personal life to speak of, does he? His friends at Arcadia would all be targeted anyway if anyone wanted to get back on a Ward, and it's not like he's particularly close to any specific one of them, if he had to name a closest friend other than Lorica it would be Echo or Rewind.

He spends a couple of seconds chewing on his lip as he ponders this, then says, "I shouldn't, it's—kind of a secret, and..." But my, he does sound like he wants to be convinced to tell, doesn't he?

"I mean, I understand, of course, but I can keep secrets."

Of course Chelsea can keep secrets, who could ever doubt that? "Of course you can keep secrets, I don't—I mean—it's..."

He's really running out of excuses.

"I might make a better shoulder to cry on if I knew," she murmurs.

He sighs.

"I'd like to go somewhere more—private. Feels a bit too exposed, out in the open, here."

"I noticed a good spot a couple blocks that way."

"Okay. Lead the way?"