A knife of anger cut through his grief for a moment there, a yeah you should have shaped blade. But he should have too. Instead he'd kind of shut down, and didn't say a thing as his guilt eroded away at him. They both should have. They were both shitheads. "S'done now anyway," he muttered, body rocking like he was trying to relieve a stomachache that wouldn't quit. "Been and gone. Whatever. It's just a day. He's dead. So."