Gods, if he let himself wallow he was going to lose it. Drake paused in walking so he could shut his eyes for a second, grounding himself. One moment of weakness, and he shoved himself back under the mask of his profession.

"I refuse," he replied, only after his eyes were back open -- and nice and dry, thank you! -- and they were moving again. That it was a response not unlike something the priest in his arms might say... well, 'shit rubbed off', as it were.