They are morons, and he's not living in fear, he's just being realistic because this shit is never going to work. But he doesn't say as much because he's already said too much and he'd rather just tense up to all hell and impatiently reel the line back in only to whip the hook back out into the ocean.

"So you're saying I should talk to her and potentially fuck up what we've got right now by... just throwin' everythin' out in the open, everythin' we're not supposed to talk about, on the off chance that she'll be cool with it?" He grumbles, sniffs, sighs, eases up a bit and leans against his rock-in-human-form, "We gotta go back, Jet. You know we gotta go back. You-- ... Is it worth it? Getting close like that? Findin' someone then runnin--" Shiiiiiiiiiiit. Of all the people to ask that particular question. FUCK.

"M'sorry." It's quiet, but it's probably the easiest apology he has ever given.