Will listens, his gaze falling on the weapons displays as he does so. He remembers talking about this, but not as a recurring issue. At the question, Will kisses the top of Malcolm's head.

"It's really not you." He says it quietly, but his voice is certain. "In fact, I don't even think I'm behind, necessarily. It's just...I'm always difficult, apparently, even when I don't want to be. And when self-proclaimed monsters and murderers with an exponentially higher kill count than I have get their lives back in a matter of months, I start feeling...jealous. And petty. And like I'm not working hard enough. I start thinking I'm not sacrificing enough for this, and then I throw the whole line of thinking out." But it always does come back, eventually.