Boots is hiding in the rafters of the gym.

Glam floats up to them. "Do you want to talk? Or punch me? I'll go away if you want me to."

Boots socks them in the shoulder.

They grimace and bite their tongue not to cry out. They're pretty sure if Boots had been trying a little bit harder they might've dislocated the shoulder. As it is, it's just hurting like a—a lot, with their hovering having absorbed some of the impact. "I probably deserved that."

"The fuck do you want," mutters Boots.

"I don't know. To help. Try to make it better, if I can't fix it. Maybe serve as a target to your frustration and anger, I can take it and you might need it. I can't claim to understand, but." They shrug, and wince when they're rudely reminded that shrugging involves their shoulder. Ow.

Boots growls wordlessly.

"...or I can go away. Like I said, if you want that, I'll do that. I want to help, and if staying out of your way for the rest of forever is the way to do it, then I can do it."

"All of a sudden you're pretending you give a shit, what got into you?"

"I do give a shit." Their compunctions about swearing could wait, they had a feeling Boots might be annoyed if they were obviously avoiding swearing. "It may sometimes look like I don't, and like I'm selfish and weak and need to be protected and want everyone to care about me. And to some extent, that's true, and it's—it's something I'm working on. It's something that's hurt the department, hurt Ms. Yates, hurt you, and I do give a shit."

"Well, isn't that all very peer counseling," snaps Boots.

"Maybe. I can be more direct: I fucked up big time, I'm a complete selfish git and I fucked up."

"The fuck is a git?"

"...no clue, it's something I heard. I think it's like, asswipe, moron, idiot?"

"Oh."

They shrug again. This time they don't wince (externally, they grimace under their mask). "I'm sorry."

"Well, that fixes everything, doesn't it."

"No. No it doesn't."

Snort.

Sigh.

"'Cause you haven't asked me to leave yet. I told you I'm gonna do what you want me to."

"What, are you just gonna fly around after me forever if I don't tell you to get lost? Follow me home like a puppy?"

"No, the plan was mostly staying around until you decided you wanted anything in specific, and not go after you if you left without saying anything."

"And your plans are super fucking good, aren't they."