When he’s standing in front of his brother, Robbie ducks his head to look at his face, and his expression twists. “You got in a fight?”

Johnny pulls his head up, a glint of challenge in his face. He shrugs.

Robbie folds his arms. “Who threw the first punch?”

“He had it coming,” Johnny mutters. He brushes his wrist against his split lip, then grimaces as he seems to notice that he’s gotten a streak of blood on the cuff of his denim jacket sleeve in the process.

“Robbie,” Danny starts to pipe up.

Johnny shoots him a withering look. “Don’t.”

That remark, of course, has the opposite of its intended effect. Danny bristles more. “You think he’s gonna care?”

“What are you two—?” Robbie tries, but Danny speaks over him.

“He won’t,” Danny says with confidence.

“Danny,” Johnny growls, “for once, would you mind your own fucking business?”

“Hey!” Robbie snaps. “Language!”

“He won’t care,” Danny says again. “I know he won’t. I’ve seen his porn.”

That shuts up everyone, including Johnny, for a shocked second.

Danny’s ears get pink. “I mean, it wasn’t on purpose. I was looking for Christmas presents. I guess you can find the wrong hiding place, sometimes. Anyway, there were some naked girls, yeah, but also—”

“How, exactly,” Robbie interrupts, his voice a little strangled, “is this relevant to whatever is going on?”

Johnny, who’s been gaping at Danny along with Robbie and Lance, now hangs his head again.

Danny takes a deep breath through his nose and jerks his head toward the back of the truck.

Robbie, cheeks still faintly red above his beard, looks back and forth between them in bewilderment, then follows Danny’s silent gesture and starts to circle the Chevy. When he sees the tailgate, he freezes mid-step.

For a long moment, Robbie just looks. Even Danny doesn’t break that silence. Then, Robbie retraces his steps until he’s back in front of Johnny and puts both of his hands on his brother’s shoulders. Johnny hesitantly looks up. When he does, Robbie pulls him into a tight hug that goes on for a long time. Neither of them say a word.

Later, after a quiet dinner where the events of the day aren’t mentioned, Lance and Danny go upstairs and sit on the floor wordlessly. The issues of The Team are still there in a neat stack from the night before, ready for them to dive back in. Lance reaches for Issue 12, but, for once, even the subplots that feature Mr. Cosmos can’t hold Lance’s attention.

“Did you really…?” he blurts, but he can’t bring himself to actually say the words.

It doesn’t matter. Danny definitely knows what he’s talking about. He glances up from beneath the oversized bill of his ballcap. “Yes, I’ve seen Robbie’s collection. Or, at least part of it. Maybe he doesn’t keep it all in one place. I only saw magazines. He probably has other stuff, you know? I mean, he’s not ninety years old, so I assume he has some video—”