[Finally, at last, he sighs, slow and quiet. His grip on Hoot lets up, and he pulls his other arm free, rub his temples and wipe at his eyes. At the very least, he has this.

He mumbles:]

I made a fool out of myself. No one's gonna wanna talk to the...suicidal nutcase who breaks down on the feed. [The more he realizes he's afraid of that -- being alone -- the more he regrets it, what he did in the first place.]

And what those guys said... [That's weighing on him too; what an awful partner he's going to be.]