The rest wasn't going to last long and Liam was taking the time to sip at his own water while glancing out into the wasteland. It was much easier with the goggles, as they doubled as sunglasses, which was really just one of those little small conveniences that annoyed the hell out of him. Mostly because he couldn't figure out the Workers' angle on being so... thoughtful about their provisions compared to everything else that had happened in the Cave. He jolted out of the reverie to look over to Aziraphale and quirked a half-smile when he saw the man.

His memories of the incident were foggy and only got worse the further he tried to follow them. There was the offer of a meeting, their talk and realization, the guard force showing up. They were cornered, Aziraphale pleading and Liam simply lashing out — literally, in one case. He distinctly recalled throwing a punch and could only guess by the bruise that was now mostly-healed that he had hit something and been hit back. That was where it more or less ended.

"Good afternoon," he greeted sardonically. It was anything but good, after all. "You doing all right?"