[ in retrospect, coming out here without being better prepared was absolutely a bad idea, one that charles squarely blames himself for — because, no, he doesn't have anything to throw, and he should. he should have asked jinx for some of her bombs, should have made preparations for this exact eventuality: the simulation throwing yet another curveball at them, one he can't just whack aside with his bat. junpei's safety is his responsibility, and he can't afford to fuck this up. ]

I don't, [ he says, his voice still steady — it takes on an almost reassuring edge, like he's putting his everything into making sure junpei won't freak out over this. ] Hey, I'll run too. Course I will. I can hold whatever comes at us back, but I can't kill it, not with this. [ this; another twirl of his bat. ] But that's the thing, love, I have to hold it back. If I don't get at least a few good hits in, it'll just catch us.

[ he closes his eyes for a moment, listens; the slithering is coming from somewhere to their right, now, and he starts to tug junpei to the left, trying to visualise the quickest way to run back home through the street that opens up there.

then, he opens his eyes, and aims a tender look at junpei, despite the situation. ]

I mean, would I prefer it if I could get you to go on ahead? Yeah, sure. But I meant — let me protect you, and when whatever's out there is regrouping, we'll make a break for it. [ so his instructions, well, they always included him running, too — maybe a little bit behind him, yes, but he doesn't mean to stay behind. ]