In that moment, Isaac's head hurt worse than it had since the whole thing started, but he knew that Élodie had nothing to do with it. His temples were pounding, though, and he smelled like he'd rolled around in a pile of shit for the better part of a week - which, in some ways, he had. Just then, Tyler tugged on his sleeve, so he did the only thing he could think of to do in the situation. He picked the kid back up.
What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? He didn't even know. So he just took a few steps forward, then hung back a bit. Jesus fuck, he thought for the millionth time, wishing he could rub at his forehead instead of hefting two fairly good-sized children up off the ground and holding them there.