Limping out gets him, just him, a few looks but he doesn't wait for Malcolm to follow or look back. Go or stay, it's his call. He's a grown man. York, for his part, leans against the wall and pulls a cartridge out of his pocket, fiddles with one of the tubes from it. Not the same as a regular cigarette but this is cheaper and less likely to kill him in the long run.

So.

The first drag is like a goddamn balm, why'd he quit again? He can't remember.