[ When Hickey first arrives back in the land of the living, he's uhhhh not looking super great... One hand is pressed tightly over the gunshoot wound he's still sporting, his shirt stained red around his stomach. Clearly he's in pain, but as if he's going to let that bother him now. They've won, meaning he's won, so he's all smiles.
He'll wave off any offers of healing and instead fix himself once he gets his cigarette case back from Angelo...
Afterwards, he can be found milling around in the garden, cigarette in his mouth, taking in the colors one last time before he's off to who knows where. ]
Have you decided where you'll go yet?
[ Feel free to come say your goodbyes—or beat the shit out of him, whichever. ]
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He'll wave off any offers of healing and instead fix himself once he gets his cigarette case back from Angelo...
Afterwards, he can be found milling around in the garden, cigarette in his mouth, taking in the colors one last time before he's off to who knows where. ]
Have you decided where you'll go yet?
[ Feel free to come say your goodbyes—or beat the shit out of him, whichever. ]