"If that was it, I didn't do a very good job, huh? I'm still here." He was trying to joke but it came out sorta flat. Archer was still warring with those two sides of him; the part that was overjoyed that Chase was back and the other part that was now afraid to believe it was for good.
"It's not an attitude. Just .. never mind." He reached the kitchen door in time to see Chase looking for what could only be his cigarettes. He could have said a lot of things but instead Archer shuffled toward an end table that was, surprisingly, the only non-cluttered flat space in the place. There was a wooden box on it, black and polished to a shine. There wasn't even any dust on it. Archer opened it with a thumb and then scooped out the contents. He let the lid close with a soft thump and turned to head back to Chase.
"Don't rush the dead part."
He extended his hand, palm up. Lying on his hand was a pack of cigarettes, unopened and the brand that Chase preferred. There was a lighter there too.
"I don't know what to do with you. Part of me wants to beat you up for leaving, for not letting me know what was going on before it happened. The other part wants to kiss you and just be glad you're back and not think about the part where you might have to disappear again."