Darnies kept his mouth shut as the Detective continued on, the young Witch pressing his lips together in distaste at the empty promises. "You don' know anything, man." He spoke up, rubbing at an old scar on his good shoulder absentmindedly. If the detective could see under it, he'd see a harsh and puckered scar from a bullet. What he wouldn't see is that it was laced with Angelica, Betony, and Rue; a Hunter's typical mix to slow a witch down or- if it hits a vital area- kill them. If Chasa hadn't moved in upstairs a week before with all her plants, Darnies wasn't sure he'd have been able to save himself. 

He startled at Rebecca's appearance and blatant honestly before realizing the Detective probably thought she was joking. He dropped the hand from his shoulder and picked up the piece of paper as the other man put in his order with Rebecca, who'd stopped by their booth. When she went back behind the bar, Darnies spoke up again. "You can't promise to keep me safe because you don't know who did it, or the full extent of their capabilities. You can't promise me you'll catch them even if I did give any information you seem to think I have. I can't tell you anything like you say I can, because I don't know you, I don't trust you, and I don't want to get mixed up in any of this." Darnies paused in his speaking when he saw a man with an arm bleeding about as much as his own walked into the bar and quickly ordered two bottles from Rebecca. He saw Chasa tense and quickly make her way over to him, pushing him further into the booth so her size hid him from view. He put up no protest; he was sure all the Beings in the bar felt the shiver from his wards telling them the man had willingly killed Supernaturals before. It had taken him almost four months to fine-tune that ward and now he was kind of glad he did.

The murmur of conversation all around the bar took on a tense edge, and Darnies found himself lowering his voice to finish what he was going to say to the good detective. "Don't make promises you can't keep in situations you don't understand, Detective," he all but whispered in warning, wary eyes flickering to the other bloodied man repeatedly. "Maybe it was a racist, maybe it was his ex-boyfriend, I don't know." he was starting to get fidgety with the most-likely-Hunter over at the bar. "Innocent people die all the time, it's not a reason to jump in and get yourself killed too. Gray never would have wanted me to get involved."

And he wouldn't. All the Supernaturals in the building had gotten together to go over what to do if something like this happened, and they came to a consensus: bury your damn heads in the sand.

"DarnDarn..." Chasa said quietly, making him look up again to see Harry entering on the tail end of tucking a gun back into his waistband. 

"Aw, fuck." He sure hoped Harry wasn't looking for a fight today.