*as some detached part of his mind objects (Buckleburgh's at least a thirty-minute drive), draws in a sharp, tiny breath and whispers words, things you probably can't hear and he won't remember saying five minutes from now*
*lets his hand fall slowly to the floor beside him, the phone slipping from suddenly numb fingers* *watches Joe with a dull sort of concentration, trying to focus past the pounding in his chest and head (so tired)*