If she'd said just about anything else in that instant, he would have admitted to his own fears. That humans of this world would start hunting him the moment they knew he existed. That even if they still did all the right things, made all the right moves, picked all the right places to hide... his time here was going to be limited. Far more than she had yet to realize. That the dull realization of what might come after terrified him more than four million years of battlefields ever had.
But Rogue cared so much. She would take it as some failing, find some blame to put on herself, as if it were somehow her fault that he was stuck here alongside her. He wouldn't do that to her.
Letting his own indecisions and fears dictate his actions had already cost Knock Out the one dearest to him. He carried that guilt as best he could because there was no other choice. But he couldn't bear to lose someone else to those same weaknesses of his.
No. He wouldn't add to her burden.
"We're allowed to be imperfect once in a while," is what he says instead. He pushes up with his hands, getting back to his feet again. His tone is deliberately light, easy. "You're wrong if you think I'm going to hold it against you."
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But Rogue cared so much. She would take it as some failing, find some blame to put on herself, as if it were somehow her fault that he was stuck here alongside her. He wouldn't do that to her.
Letting his own indecisions and fears dictate his actions had already cost Knock Out the one dearest to him. He carried that guilt as best he could because there was no other choice. But he couldn't bear to lose someone else to those same weaknesses of his.
No. He wouldn't add to her burden.
"We're allowed to be imperfect once in a while," is what he says instead. He pushes up with his hands, getting back to his feet again. His tone is deliberately light, easy. "You're wrong if you think I'm going to hold it against you."