[ Something seems to weigh on his shoulders when Sunday confirms what he'd been thinking — sure, he wanted to know, but having that knowledge doesn't bring him any comfort. ]

You're in luck. [ Lifting his wrist, he wiggles the watch around on it. ] That makes two of us. "Wildcards"... I guess.

[ Lighter knows he's not someone who reads as altruistic at first blush. And really, it's probably better that way if he's going to get anywhere in a place like this. But sometimes there's places where the smoke thins over the tenderness beneath, where the fires don't rage so hot. Hooking his toe on a nearby chair leg, he drags it over and drops into a seat. ]

So, is it more of a physical can't? Or mental?

[ Idle curiosity without expectation. ]