Johnny looks at him, at once gutted and startled and angry, the motion sharp but his expression landing nowhere, just blank and staring.

"I know I didn't," he says after what feels like a slightly overlong pause. "I didn't do it because I had to. I did it because I could."

Is that what you wanted to hear, Daniel? Did you need that little confirmation that Johnny is capable of purposeful cruelty? Cause you got it, baby.

"This isn't a shield," he says, making an erratic gesture at their surroundings. "This isn't protection. It's a fucking weapon. I don't want it, but it's mine, so I'm gonna fucking use it like it's meant to be. I am sick of getting torn to pieces and waking up before sunrise, okay? I'm done. You remember the fucking kitten, right, saying we were toys? It gave me this because it wants me to raise hell. If the rift wants to throw this shit at me I'm throwing back. So you can just - get off your high fucking horse about what's necessary."

His voice has risen over the course of this, and when he stops the silence rings in his ears. He's leaned forward, arched and vehement, and now he slumps back against the wall, like a sulking child. Like Daniel's not playing by the rules of his fucking tree fort.

"Don't fucking judge me," he finishes, cold and quiet.