Gavin cants his head, considering.

"I don't know if that would help." His lips press with a frown. "Most of us didn't get a choice beyond — well, them or us. I don't know how much a difference it would make if the choice was less..."

He can't seem to think of a word to describe what he's feeling, trails off with a shake of his head.

"But if you think it would, and you're sure... fuck, it's grim, but the option's there."

Cigarette smoke dances between them as he exhales.

"How would you define innocence, Rowan?"

How much had Gavin's definition of the word been warped and changed since Rocket had sunk in its claws? He'd killed so many innocent people. Their blood no longer stained his hands but lingered on his conscience.

The admission, though nervous, is met with an understanding nod.

"I should have been more clear of our terms. That's on me."

Gavin huffs a laugh — dry, but not mocking.

"Is there anyone like that in the world?"

Even outside of Rocket, corruption was everywhere. The corruption of the League was the reason half of those in Rocket had found their way into the organization's bloodied ranks.

"Would you think of the League as innocent? If one of them had you cornered, could you pull the trigger?"

It's a tough question, and he knows it.

"I used to believe that. Now...?"

He's come a long way from the child reading stories of heroes, of righteous justice. Such innocence had been fractured long before Rocket but they'd crushed the last of it beneath their boot.

"Some people are all right."

He thinks of Zac Ramsay. How he'd healed Chu-e Choi after their excursion, how friendly the man had seemed. With Chu-e's disdain for the League, the man's trust in one of its members went a long way.

Gavin nods, a grim satisfaction with Rowan's answer settling across his features.

"Self-preservation is a hell of a motivator. I'd know."

He exhales cigarette smoke, extinguishes the filter against the floor, and lights another.

Wordless, Gavin hands Rowan another cigarette.

He shakes his head in dismissal of the apology, though there's a note of understanding in his gaze.

"You've got a right to be critical. I'd rather these things be said to my face than behind my back." He knows that there are whispers, at times, fears them for what they could become. "I won't pretend I always make the right calls."

He'd thought Alexandra Briarwood was a mole, after all.

He does huff a surprised laugh at the last comment.

"Is that what siblings are meant to do? Can't say I had a normal childhood." He smiles, however brief. "We'll get there. I'd offer, but you've probably drank enough, mm?"

Gavin grimaces at the mention of sleep.

"... if you're having trouble, pay elijah gardner a visit. He's an apothecary."

It was a dying art, but Gavin respected it for the number of times an herbal remedy or just a good joint had managed to take the edge off his issues.

"Grumpy dude, green hair, resting bitch face." Gavin grins. "Can't miss him."