Eventually he calms down, slowly, not because he isn't still upset, but because the exhaustion starts to win out. He's so tired. He hasn't really slept, and his body's been through a lot. He doesn't feel better, exactly, but he doesn't feel like there's something fighting to get out of him anymore.

He sniffs and wipes at his face, taking deep breaths, slowly but surely steadying himself, with her whispering little reassurances.

"I think I'm ready to go on," he says finally, looking over at her.