He replies at first with another hum of consideration, though this one is far less cheerful. Thinking about it makes Xavier feel the way burning plastic smells. Head all alarms and acrid poison. And the more he thinks about it, the more he's sure they'll be there. It threatens to lock him up.

Xavier drags his fingers through his hair and listens, counting three beats of Reid's heart, before responding. Talking about it feels like lifting a boulder. "Guess so," they barely spoke at graduation. Twenty-three words between them. He'd counted, after the fact. "But it's more like...I'm pissed at them, too."