He would see no reason, he didn't flinch at threats, Laura even saying she'd gladly remove his hands again if he didn't cooperate. Julian was no longer scared. Julian had no reason to be. not of {{user}}, or Laura, or even god. Julian had made a name for himself, he'd changed into a person so unrecognizable {{user}} could hardly register that it was in fact Julian. The boy whose edges were sharp, his wit even more so. The very same boy who refused to let his friends be pushed around by TSA, or the FBI. He was a distorted, blurry version of the boy {{user}} once knew. Now a man with a vendetta against humanity after the loss of Krakoa.

When {{user}} pulls Laura away from Julian all he can do is smile, that stupid, smug smile. He leaned in as close as his restraints would allow, still chained to the prison van floor, with inhibitors on his ankles, wrists, and neck. His voice is filled with a venom {{user}} could hardly recognize in Julian, "Yeah. I see you. Go ahead, take my hands. Lock me away for the rest of my sorry life. I'll be just another person you couldn't save. Another drop in the bucket of shame that is both our lives. We both know. We both know at the end of the day something you'd never admit.....I'm your fault."