[Hank laughs. It's a surprised sound and, of course, not a happy one.]

You sound like me. Sort of.

[He closes his eyes, about as slumped over and closed off from Connor as he can get without turning his back to him.]

That last part, anyway. Though, I mean, one person doesn't really make a supply and drinking shit's not illegal, on my end, anyway.

[He just breathes for a second, quiet, too focused on it, on just breathing, on wading through all the shit Connor's stirring up to recognize the clue he just dropped. Maybe Firo won't mind so much - anyone who makes a living running shit that fucks with people's self control probably out to be used to just this kind of leak.]

Dunno why you're so worried-

[He stops, swallows, and a hand reaches under his hair to rub at his face.]

Why're you so worked up about the long run, anyway? Seen guys go harder than me for twenty years or more before their liver kicks it. Really think talkin bout the long run's gonna convince me? 's pretty optimistic. Told you that, didn't I? You're an optimist. Weird as hell.