[ He takes a breath, lets it out, and looks at the floor. There’s a number of different things all vying to be said and all of them are pointless and futile. But he hears what he says, hears him say that he’s glad that he’s here.

If there are solutions to the problems he’s facing, he doesn’t know what they are enough to hazard a guess at them. And he doesn’t know how to talk about them openly. But the memories urge him to try and so far, they’re right in one respect. This man’s at least trying to help him. ]

If I look back into those memories, I see a man who’s always been subject to his name. All of the expectations he’s had and others have had for him, his career, his lifestyle, his identity, it’s all tied to that damn name.

[ He glances up at him, the corner of his mouth twisting into a wry half-smile that isn’t the least bit amused. ]

That’s what I’ve got swimming around in my head. And you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking the ungrateful bastard’s lucky. [ He shakes his head. ] I don’t even have one.