Dave stared at Saltriv. "...How old is he?" he asked, and had the worst feeling about the answer.
He shook his head. "Look, regardless of what's behind the shadow thing, whoever is forcing the two of you into playing heroes against your will isn't much better. If they've given you some special power to get it done or some shit, they could've at least given it to some of the actual adult fuckers running around pining for danger and desperate to help. Regardless of what whatever comic books you've been reading tell you, heroism isn't some magic sacred duty foisted upon random kids from the outside, least of all when they want nothing to do with it. Kid wants to go home, let him go home, for fuck's sake."
His pulse pounded uncomfortably in his throat. Jean getting scared and coming home might be the only reason she wasn't dead.
"Maybe instead of doing whatever hero thing you're expected to, you should just go find the Voice of Life and kick their ass." And how likely was that to do fucking anything? If whoever the Voice was summoned a scared reluctant kid in the first place and expected them to save the world whether they liked it or not, wasn't like it was any kind of reasonable authority figure that'd play nice. What would they do to a kid who refused to play their part?
Dave clenched his jaw and slumped down onto the armrest again. "If somehow, for some inane reason, nobody but you can do this? At least get some qualified fucking help."