Dustin's scowl twists, as does his head, and a skeptical hum escapes his pursed lips.

"If you wanted to," he says, parroting the obvious. "And you clearly don't, or at least you want me to jump through a dozen arbitrary hoops before you'll tell me, so..."

Dustin throws his hands into the air.

"...Sounds like a tremendous waste of my time!" His hands clap down to his sides. "I'm out. Go fuck yourself."

And that's Dustin's patience, gone. He makes for the hangar doors at a brisk, stomping pace, making sure to give Wilson a wide berth on his way.