It's questionable whether any reaction really touches his face at the first outburst from Danny. A return to that commentary in the form of insults that does cause Steve to at least keep looking in that direction. Because he totally just gave him information. About what he was asking about before Steve made the call.

But Danny decides to leave his megaphone peanut gallery heckling for even more questions, which just leaves Steve staring at him wondering what the hell. Just seriously what the hell. Danny is railing about him not talking, but just watching Danny talk is like watching a human puzzle box exist at him. Every new breath has another slew of words in a different hue of emotion from the one before it. And. It. Just. Never. Stops.

He never shuts up. He's never at a loss for words. He never needs to take a breather.

Which, of course, has nothing to do with Steve's inability to answer the question in the middle there. He was everything on himself he needs until he needs another few mags of bullets. He doesn't even want the equipment he has. They're more details to a promise made that has a terminally short end date with Hesse. Right? But food. When was the last time he ate? When was the last time he felt hungry?

He doesn't want to think about why he knows he didn't eat earlier. He really doesn't want to detour and pause the case for it now. Even and close to shoulder still for his thoughts at least gets -- "Coffee might not be a bad idea."

It isn't. It's the shortwire, but he's run on less. He knows he'll be fine. He's still got days in himself. But he's got them, too.

"We have no idea how long we'll all be looking at files once Chin gives us the information on this guy."