"One day. Our memories of a place are far better than the actuality." Typical Quebecois pride aside, he knew the truth of how rememberance worked. He'd remember the good times, the perfect hunts and wilderness, but conveniently gloss over how overbearing and urban Montreal was. Combined with explaining to his parents exactly what he was doing now that he'd left the police, well. It'd be an awkward homecoming no matter what, especially when explaining to parents who'd hoped their son would have taken up a more academic career.

The bottle was only a quarter finished, an affront in his mind when they'd been talking for a good while now. It was better than fighting for the bottle with Frost, but drinking was a social activity; finishing a bottle alone was only the sign of an alcoholic. He gave the bottle a littlet shake, tilting it in Legolas' direction to see if he'd like another before filling his own.

"They managed a few months without us. They'd survive, if we settled for the bare minimum." Buck raised an eyebrow as he imagined what would happen if they went on extended vacation. "They'd turn our rooms into weight rooms, divvy up our equipment, and spam us with texts asking if we've died. In short, nothing different than usual." Constant harassment was how Rainbow showed their love, after all. But he couldn't complain, not when he knew that criticism only meant they'd trusted each other enough to actually listen. The haranguing he'd given the recruits came from a place of trust, in hopes they'd take it to heart and improve.

"And who would look after our recruits if we did?"