He's serious, isn't he?

Falcon supposes he already knew that, but still, something in his core clenches at that, his face crumpling despite himself.

"... None. None at all," he says, voice a little more brittle than he'd like. Still, he raises his hand, even if somewhat hesitantly.

"I won't- I'm not going to use this to force you into anything," he says, more firmly than before. Then, quietly: "thank you, Phoenix."

His hand, mechanical and hard, clasps around the feathered one, accepting the green light.