He twitches back, confused expression flashing briefly into fear. Touching is not a thing he wants at this point. Touching means violence means pain.

His voice is tight, even strangled, when he answers, "I don't know. I don't know who he is." A former handler? A former target? No, not a target. A former-- someone he was supposed to protect? A scientist, maybe. A politician. He doesn't know, but he doesn't want whoever that small, sad man hurt. "He said he. Could get by on his own."