Bagins walked straight through the ten of them toward Max, and his stride never changed once. He even reached out and tapped one on the shoulder as he passed it, the way you'd touch a friend to let him know you were going by. The body didn't react. The empty face stayed oriented on its sector of the roof. Bagins kept walking.
I stayed near the top of the stairway and watched.
"Max."
Both of them turned, and Bagins went straight into him and hugged him.
The contact was full and uninvited—arms around the younger man's shoulders, the radio unit still under one of them, the particular enthusiasm of someone who had already decided the alliance was complete and was only waiting for the other party to catch up.
Max's hands stayed in his pockets the whole time. His body accepted the hug without returning it.
Bagins came out of it, took a step back and offered a hand instead.
