Swamped

Your head is practically spinning with years worth of unresolved feelings. You never wanted to see him again. You wanted to hit him, hard. You wanted him to come back.

There's only one thing you can think of to do right now, though, and that's make him face his own damn demons. You were in the Guild long enough to learn out about some of their older passwords and hand gestures. So you grab the hand on your shoulder, and instead of just tossing it off, you give it a little shake. The shake they were phasing out when you were dragged in.

His eyes widen.

"No way that's still in standard use," he mutters. "I figured you bastards would try to get your filthy mitts involved in this business, but I was sure you'd forgotten all about me."

You've never heard him like this. Usually when he bothered talking to you at all, he was angry. Often drunk, to boot.

"Well, I don't want any more trouble. I'm not going back, and with how far out to sea we are, you can't very well make me. If it's about the package, I got rid of it ages ago and I don't even remember where. If it's about anything else, then be out with it already."

Well, hells. You think this has just made the whole mess more complicated. You might be able to get some clue what's going on out of him, but not without feeling pretty awful about how you got it.

So what do you do?