Yeah, sure, have your fucking minute, kid. When you should be resting and fucking not standing. Alex shifts to angle his body, still blocking Neil, but moving a hand to reach behind his back, grasping the front of Neil's clothes to keep him close and still. Stable, maybe. The cloth is familiar under his hand, but he's not looking away, not yet.

For this Alex keeps to silence, willing to let this play out, except--

Alex curls a lip at the one called Tanks, happy to play killjoy. "Not just that. Willing to crumble this whole project just to ice me."