Summary:

[“Oh fuck,” Cliff hears himself say out loud as his brain suggests—something. “Roz and Holl…oh, fuck.” Pike goes still for a moment before shoving him, rough and unexpected enough that Cliff nearly overbalances. “Fuck off, Marlow,” Pike snarls, hauling him in by the sweater. Cliff ignores it, staring past Pike’s shoulder. “Fucking Christ, fucking—are they—” “Shut the fuck up, shut up, shut your fucking mouth, Marlow.” “They’re—fuck, fuck, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t—” Cliff finds himself looking at Pike almost pleadingly, a weird helplessness buzzing in his fingertips and toes. “I didn’t kno—” “You don’t know shit,” Pike says savagely, physically putting himself between Cliff and the space Hollander used to be. “Shut your fucking mouth, you don’t know anything.”] OR, Cliff Marlow's POV of The Hit and the aftermath, as he starts to put a few things together.