Whether fake or real, Cook's smiles are destined to be short-lived. This one hardens and cracks on his face, a cold remnant of what it had been. He doesn't need to be lectured, not by her, not by anyone. It's not like she actually gives a damn, is it?

"You could just try thanks," he suggests coolly. "I help save your life. Rather than the guilt bullshit and your kind fucking words as to my intelligence, you could try thanks."