They entered a room where Derrick sat in an armchair, his green eyes scanning a projection as his arms folded against his chest.
She didn't look at him, her mouth set in a hard line. "Derrick?" He glanced over at them, one eyebrow raised. "Ah. Poppy. You're awake." "Yeah. Listen, can we go home?" His gaze flickered to Francis and he frowned. "That may be tricky."
Her grip on his hand became tighter. "I'll go where he goes," she said quickly. Derrick opened his mouth to interject, but Poppy shook her head. "This isn't debatable."
Derrick glared at her for a moment before sighing. "Well, unfortunately, that really only leaves headquarters."
He shrugged, crossing his arms. "We have no way of knowing. Unfortunately, we're not really equipped to dealing with children..."
"You can't leave. I just got you back." "It's the safest option, Poppy. Even if he leaves, you're still not completely safe, but it's better than nothing." Poppy shook her head stubbornly. "I won't let it happen."
Her jaw was set, but he would be able to detect panic in her voice. "No! No, Francis! I'm not going to have you leave again!" Her pitch rose as she became more overwhelmed, and Derrick glared, crossing his arms.
Francis glanced at Derrick and shrugged. "This is not the first time I've tried, I'll have you know."
He glanced at Francis, clearly irritated before he looked back at Poppy. "Damnit, Poppy! You need to stop being so stubborn! Your child is in danger. If you can't listen to sense, then at least do it for her." Poppy fell silent, looking down at the ground with pursed lips, evidently fuming.
"You were gone for three months, Francis," she said, her voice tight and quiet. "Who knows how much longer you'll be gone?"
