[He huffs, looking down at his hands on his waistband and nodding a little.]

Yeah, I guess you can have weird taste if you want.

[He pauses and then - nope, it's still coming out, he can't leave it at that even though he wishes he would, even if a part of him's yelling at the rest to shut the fuck up and give Cayde a reason to want to stick around, to stop digging up all this shit and tossing it all over the place. But he can't leave it at that, at Cayde telling him what 'should be' isn't like he thinks Hank's some kind of idealist or, or whatever.]

But- I know, I know about getting dealt a shitty fucking hand, it's not- [He swallows.] I can't- I haven't been able to do a goddamn thing since I got here and I need- I can't-

Fuck, if it's all gonna be like this, if it's gonna keep ending in random tragedy and freak fucking accidents-

[His voice struggles under all the baggage in that last little phrase, wavers and cracks under the weight of it, and he stops. He breathes. He unbuttons his goddamn pants.]

This is the least sexy strip tease I've ever done in my life.

[Hank's trying to sound amused there and he shivers on the tail end of it, a little reminder from his body that, yeah, taking off the wet clothes probably is a pretty good idea. But it feels weird, he'd be the only naked person in the room and he's not sure if standing here shivering like a moron because of his own bad decisions isn't preferable to that.]

How about you? Seen worse? It'd take a real bad one to top this.