God -- I'm so sorry, Chrissy. I'm gonna try and make this quick, okay? We'll be there in five minutes. If you gotta cry, or scream, or anything - just do it, it's okay. I got this.

[ He definitely doesn't, and he's going to need to smoke himself into a stupor to try and get any sleep tonight. Assuming he doesn't crash the van and end up in the hospital with her. Focus. That's the name of the game right now. At least there's almost no traffic.

Eddie swallows hard as he listens to her speak of the horrors she's seen and heard, and as crazy as it all sounds, how can he doubt her? He's stone cold sober and even if he weren't - girls don't just levitate and break their own arms. He can't help but shiver, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he grips the steering wheel even tighter.

At least the talking seems to help distract from her arm, maybe? They stop at a red light and he finally opens his mouth again. ]

What, is he like, Freddy Krueger or something?

[ He pauses after he says it, then shakes his head, looking over at her again - the streaks of makeup running down her cheeks, her red-rimmed eyes. Getting nightmares from a movie couldn't explain away any of this and he's only making himself sound doubtful. The last thing he wants is for her to feel alone here, and he has a sinking suspicion she's been feeling alone a lot longer than he knows. ]

I don't know what's going on, Chrissy. Or - if kissing you really helped you come back. But I believe you. One hundred percent. Okay?

[ He has to force a smile, and he'd pat her on the shoulder if he wasn't so afraid to hurt her. Instead, he hits the gas again, reluctantly returning his eyes to the road. ]

We're almost there. You're tough as nails, you know that?