The way that Tycho exploded caught Ford off guard. He hadn't expected him to be so volatile, and it didn't fit with the narrative Ford had constructed in his head over the past few seconds of a one-sided friendship. Dodonus shouldn't have cared if Ford was disengaging from the conversation to get a drink. Beyond that, the words made Ford uncomfortable and a little guilty. His ears burned red and his shoulders tensed. He had been quick to assume that when Tycho suggested they talk somewhere in private, it was something to do with Ford. Tycho was suggesting that wasn't the case at all, but even so Ford couldn't just let go of the feeling in his chest. He didn't even know what to call that feeling that was any more specific than upset. He just had the same two thoughts rattling around in the back of his brain while he tried to process what Tycho had said: it's not fair it's not fair it's not fair and I don't want to I don't want to leave me alone.

"I'm allowed to get a drink!" he yelled at Tycho's retreating back. He'd shouted that because he wanted to shout something, but of course he knew the drink wasn't the point. Ford deflated slightly; his shoulders sagged and he let out a breath. It makes Ford Greengrass upset for some reason. He realized the last thirty seconds mirrored the beginning of their conversation. He'd started by saying something that struck a nerve for Tycho, because Tycho had never told him about it, and in the process of Ford trying to apologize Tycho had struck a nerve that Ford had never explained to him.

Tycho had already turned to leave. Ford couldn't afford to lose a friend right now. He was already feeling so desperately lonely, and it had been less than a week since he'd called things off with Macnair. Ford shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching Tycho's back and debating what to do next. Then he surged forward to follow. "Tycho, wait—"

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