At least his instincts weren't entirely shot to shit after whatever happened. Wolfwood stepped back when his grab was blocked, giving Stampede room -- he wasn't interested in a fight, for so many reasons -- and he kept a wary eye on the man when he nodded and headed back to the car to retrieve all his belongings.

If he started crying at stupid shit, Wolfwood decided right then and there, he was going to find himself with something to cry about. He'd already had to put up with days and days of travel with one version of this guy who shut down, starved himself, stared longingly at people but then pulled away when approached, and like hell was he going to deal with any of that plus tears. Tears made you a target -- anger kept you alive.

Whatever he was looking around in the car for, he wouldn't find it -- there wasn't anything in there but some trash left over from the previous owner, a pile of maps, and the dust of however many miles it was between wherever Blondie's mom's house had been and wherever they were now.

No Punisher, either.

"The Eye took it back." No reason to keep his employment a secret at this point, right? Even the idiot he'd been tasked to escort had sussed him out right away. "No contract, no gun. That's why I'm stickin' with you, for now." Being unarmed on Noman's was a death wish on a good day, and this? Was not a good day. "Assuming you've got bullets in there?"