[He looks amused at that, though he doesn't laugh; he buries his hands in his pockets again, though he doesn't pull out the gloves he's stored there - he's been enjoying not having them on for once.]

I know how it goes, yes; just the same, since I've returned here, I find that I can't complain. Archer's been here with me, at the very least; it hasn't been quite the same, of course, but I'm doing well enough.

[The amount of things he's not mentioning is, as usual, ridiculously large. The utter bureaucratic nightmare at work, the reprimands that have come down from high up the chain of command, the sense of distance he's been experiencing with just about everyone else (except, perhaps, for Locke, whom he doesn't even know, not really), the fact that he really hasn't felt anything in almost a month; it's unpleasant, but there's no need to mention any of that, and no words for half of it besides.]

Miss Altava is no longer here, however, which is unfortunate.