Nate falls into step behind his brother, and when things are easy like this, it's almost like he can forget the last ten years. He knows that's not the case, knows that Sam has spent all that time going through hell, but it's all too easy to slip into feeling like he's twenty again.

"He didn't look like a statue," Nate protests, shaking his head. He'd certainly felt like a damn statue the moment Nate's fist connected, but he couldn't have known exactly what he was dealing with. Darrow is full of people who are decidedly more than what they seem, it just so happens Nate found out the hard way, this time.

Nate takes the target from him, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sam lights up a cigarette. "Those things'll kill you," he mutters, knowing that it won't make a lick of difference. He should have known prison wouldn't do anything to curb Sam's smoking habit, but the idea of lung cancer taking his brother away from him again certainly rubs him the wrong way.

When they reach the end of the range, Nate unhooks the existing target, handing it over for Sam to examine while he hangs up the new one. It's fairly bullet-ridden and Nate knows even just glancing at it that neither of them have lost their edge.