Ten years. Numbers lets his hands fall to his sides, stunned. Here he is, side-by-side with the person he grew up with, the man who never wavered from him, whom Numbers never wavered from--except, now, somehow, he finds that a whole decade has passed between them.

Numbers finds his hand idly drifting up to his throat, recalling the tang of blood on his tongue. Malvo visited Wrench in the hospital--but didn't kill him. He wanted him to roil and writhe in rage, wanted him to hurt. He wanted to make sure that the knife he stuck in Numbers' back stayed with Wrench, too.

Despite their physical closeness, Numbers feels as though he's staring at Wrench at the end of a long hallway. No wonder he had crushed him in that hug. From his perspective, he hadn't seen Numbers in years. It takes him several minutes to find the words to respond.

Did you-- He stops. Tries again. Did you kill him?

What else can you really say to that?