Sand kept himself still, still enough he almost set himself off again. It was close enough that there was just the faintest tremor, small enough that no one in the Jeep would even feel it over the car's movement.

He breathed in and out and in and out and his voice wasn't right either, but it was less flat and more... brittle.

"Of course," because he couldn't... do this. Not right now. Not with Scott injured and a kid relying on them, whatever bravery she was pulling out to cling to.

But he wasn't sure what he could do.

Except

He could call Alan. He could hold it together until Alan got there.

Move past it, Sand. Move past it or die. And you're not dying.

You haven't even figured out how to.