[ he glances at the glass, but leaves it for now — instead, he listens to caitlyn's story, eyes widening during some parts of it, like her foray into stillwater, or marcus working for silco. some parts he'd well suspected; silco being behind many things in the undercity was hardly news to him, not with what he knew of singed.

still; if all this had been going on with him knowing only a small part of it, the part of jinx and her bombs... he sighs. ]

You have been busy. [ and then it's time for him to listen, again, when she says not that it really matters and the thing is? the thing is, he hears the words. of course he hears them. but understanding them takes a moment longer... and when it all sinks in, he grips his crutch tight, closes his eyes for a beat, two. ]

I am sorry, Caitlyn. For your mother. [ his voice is quiet but doesn't waver. because if the rest of the council goes — well, perhaps it's uncharitable of him, but he doesn't really care all too much. and then — ]

Jayce will make it. Do not give up on him so easily. [ jayce will survive. if anyone can... surely it's jayce. he won't accept any other outcome.

(he doesn't mention himself; what does it matter if he dies in a blast, or a few weeks or months after when his body inevitably fails him for good?) ]