"Nope," he answers the first question, even if he doesn't have to, not with his whole frame locked tense and his blood beating hard in his ears. There's a chunk of concrete on the ground next to him; he grinds it into the dirt with his heel.

When Sylvie asks what's wrong, he folds his arms over his chest, and then almost immediately drops them, trying to shake the tension free.

"Something from home. Or from the last timeline. Thought maybe if I didn't think about it, it might go away. Or at least stay quiet."