( You don't have to worry about that. It's okay. — Frank stares at this kid flat out, unsure whether he should be assuming he doesn't know the real threat they're up against, or if he's just downright delusional. Genuinely can't tell, and it does absolutely nothing to lessen Frank's concern.

He lets out a soft breath, not quite a laugh, not quite a scoff — some incredulous, near-silent third thing. )

Trust me, kid, I'm not.

( Good people don't do the kinds of things he can do. He's just a person who knows what's right and what's wrong, and letting a kid get jumped is hands-down wrong, no question about it. )

Alright, well- look, either way, in a few minutes bullets are gonna start flying, and I'd feel a hell of a lot better if you were nowhere near it when it started going down. I'm not gonna be able to worry about myself if I'm worried about you. Getting you as far away from here as humanly possible is gonna help me not get my ass clipped. Can we get on the same page about that?