For a moment Ethan remained sitting on the ground, staring blankly at her hand. Thoughts and numbers whirled in his head, competing for attention. And, as he always did whenever the situation got even remotely tricky, Ethan turned to the numbers to better understand what course of action he should take. They were the only thing in his life on which he could rely with complete certainty. Even his own mind had betrayed him before this point.

The one thing for certainty he knew was that he wanted his life to go back to normal. Ethan knew how to crave excitement, but there was a whole realm of difference between excitement and fear. And running from the FBI would only ever lead to more fear, paranoia that around every corner he turned he would find another battle with the police. Now that Bree was no longer going to be on his trail it was entirely possible that the numbers would be enough to keep him from ever running into someone who was looking for him, but that would still keep him constantly on the move, constantly on guard. He could say with certainty that was not what he wanted.

He barely even reacted to her humorous attempt at imitation, barely even flicked his eyes as she continued to speak to him, explaining what his options were. He didn't need her explanations. The numbers told him everything he needed to know. Not that he wanted her to know that.

There was no doubt that the best way for him to return to his former life was for him to accept Bree's offer, to let her escort him to the FBI, and answer their questions willingly. He had run the last time because he knew that they would be looking close. They would try and dig up everything about him, and would find the many secrets that Ethan had scattered around the country. At that time they would almost certainly have found the multiple identities he possessed, and the millions of dollars that were scattered in various banks across the country. And every time they tried to get one layer closer to the truth they would find more and more reasons to hold him, to keep looking deeper. He would have come out looking like the worst kind of criminal.

Now... now it was far more likely to be a wrap up. Bree would vouch for him, and there would be far fewer reasons for them to try and find out about him. It would be far less effort for them to just accept whatever information he gave them, and let him go. It would be one more case closed, and any people who had been put on his case could be withdrawn, and put to better uses than chasing him across the country. He would pick one of his most innocuous identities, and just keep his eye on the numbers. He would act carefully, do his best to appear perfectly honest, and keep things going in the direction that would get him out of questioning the fastest.

His hand reached out blindly, and closed over Bree's fingers. Now he finally looked at her, and even though his eyes were distant, he really was looking at her. "Fine," he agreed, pulling himself up onto wobbling legs with her helping hand. "But we will need to make a stop in Denver on the way to Virginia. I need to pick up some identification."