Mina’s escape from the situation was less than reassuring. Drake found himself on his feet, hand reaching out halfway as if to stop her but evidently deciding not to, a silent protest left lingering on his tongue. Abandonment, and at a time when the boy needed answers most. Then again, the answer to his question was pretty clear after looking over Larke. And Spire was involved, so it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. 
Larke had been tortured.

Speaking of pieces being put together, Mina was heading downstairs to ‘patch things up’ as she had said. Downstairs, to where Dawn had rushed to, where Montana was, but why? They were all down there, huddled around seemingly nothing. Why? Why weren't they up here, dealing with this? Avoiding it? He certainly planned on investigating soon, but not at the moment. He had more pressing matters.

What a mess this was, and Drake hardly felt prepared to handle any of it. Physically or emotionally. 

"...Kid?"
A hoarse voice broke him away from his current train of thought.

It had caught his attention, distracting him from the downward spiral of new and terrible information, and the boy’s silver eyes trailed back to Larke in an instant. He gave a soft, sad smile, hints of nostalgia prickling the edges of his mouth. That nickname, that voice… The sound still comforted him to this day, forever engraved into his head during a memory of a morbid prison cell. [color=#A2A2A2]”Yeah, it’s me,”[/color] he breathed.

Though his smile soon turned to a somber frown as Larke’s brain rattled off an explanation. The boy sighed as he knelt back down next to Larke. 

[color=#A2A2A2]“You’re right. The ones who did this to you are extremely fucked up. Spire, especially. No one likes him, but he's someone's brother, so it's not like we can just-..."[/color] he trailed off, realizing this probably didn't help justify anything when Larke didn't personally know the situation. Drake sighed. [color=#A2A2A2]"I’m sure it’s been pretty hard for anyone to stand up to someone like him, a complete psychopath. Or Montana, a trained mercenary for that matter... And I don't really get why those two thought any of this was okay in the first place. I guess I’m the only one with a death wish around here, because despite the risk, I’m still going to give them hell for what they did to you,”[/color] the boy finished, his voice hollow and empty.
Tired, even.

He unstrapped one of his leather gloves, pulling it off with the canines of his teeth before touching the back of his hand to Larke’s forehead. He took the glove out of his mouth with his other hand, mildly surprised. [color=#A2A2A2]“Jesus, you’re burning up…”[/color] Drake noted, his voice laced with concern. At the very least, his hand would offer some relief as it soaked in a good amount of heat on contact.

[color=#A2A2A2]”Believe me, if someone was in your head right now, you’d know it.”[/color]
He decided not to question the “ex” thing, but he certainly had caught it as it slipped out. It wasn’t something he cared to pry about - whatever happened between Mina and Larke, that was between them. 

[color=#A2A2A2]“Honestly, this whole thing’s been hard to swallow, Larke. I'm just trying to understand it all. I mean, what made you come to us wanting to hurt us? Hostile tendencies aren’t exactly a part of your resume...”[/color]