He honestly hadn't thought about what Kamala means. She does have a point and though he'd usually hesitate at a request like that, he suddenly needs to see the marks for himself, to ensure that they're still there and all in the right places at that. Frank pops off his t-shirt as Jessica's voice filters back in, almost like he'd forgotten she was here. Except that's not really possible for him, he had merely set it aside. Her comment at first seems like a dig, which would be fine, but then he recognizes what she means and he's swallowing, looking down at his own chest rather than her face. Like so many things between them, he pretends he doesn't know about the scar behind her ear, about who he's sure put it there even if he'd never ask. Calloused fingers brush the scar over his heart, left by the arrow from his friend's bow. It feels just as knotted and gnarly as it always had, only an inch lower and he wouldn't have been brought back from the brink again.

"So then what, if not clones?" Androids or something equally outlandishly scifi? They're already in their second impossible place, no suggestion is truly too out there for him to consider at this point.