"Well." Well!! "I'm not in the chopping heads off line of work, anyway."

The attack at the Met lingers. Things he'd done, because he had to. Is that the line? Defending one of the very few people he gives a shit about? Where does that put Armand and what he's done, then? Not that it matters, materially. Daniel isn't capable of inflicting any kind of harm on Armand, aside from maybe some emotional bruising.

And he can't imagine himself trying to trick Armand into drinking dead blood, or some other fucking thing. He wonders if Lestat really didn't think they were going to go through with it. If it was more than hope. If it was this thought, too. That he wouldn't have cut Magnus' head off.

Daniel doesn't know, exactly, what intel he's trying to get out of Lestat. Or what impression he's trying to give him. He doesn't want Armand to die, or even go away forever. He wants the hostilities to stop, he wants to crack Armand's head open for answers, he wants Louis to be happy and safe, he wants to understand himself.

Yeah, yeah, he'd also like the moon, or whatever.

"At least we've got plenty of time to figure it out."

Daniel is funny. They're almost back to the truck stop.