"I'm not miserable," he protested softly, a frown pulling at his brows. "I...it isn't as if I have some grand purpose, some calling, some...I'm good at what I do, but what is that? Getting people the information or weaponry they need? Get rid of those in their way, or who they have some problem with, or whose death will cause a war they want to begin? I have no endgame, nothing I'm working toward, but the next job, the next rush. I do it because it's all I know, because it's what I was trained for, but...you are what's important. You and the baby. I can find some other way to use those skills, can't I?"