"If you don't want people to know and the foster family doesn't want people to know..." Michael shrugs. "The checks keep coming, I don't cause any trouble really so who the fuck gives a shit about some nothing kid."

Michael looks down at the bottle of whiskey and the conversation is starting to really make him tense. It's a lot and it doesn't seem to have a point which made it worse somehow. "Do these what ifs even matter, Kyle? The point is no one's fucking perfect. No one's all good or all bad, you of all people should know that." Because no the aliens shouldn't have been there but they'd been there long before Kyle's father and by then hadn't the lore around them already been built up by xenophobic idiots?

"I don't know, Kyle. I don't have the same frame of reference as you. I didn't grow up loving her or even knowing she fucking existed. I thought I was alone because I was alone. And fuck, I'd run away here and stare at the stars and just wish someone would come save me and she was... there instead. So it doesn't matter. And you know, I thought Isobel killed those girls. I saw her, Kyle. It didn't change a damned thing about what I felt or thought about her and I protected her from the truth instead. So I'm the wrong person to ask if you want someone to agree with you."