Johnny's agitation is spiking and painful and difficult to ignore, and he can't ignore it, really. It's edged all around him.

"It wasn't your fault," he says gently, and he's not precisely exactly all the way certain about whether that's a mental loop Johnny's locked himself into? But the feeling of utter helplessness while something like that just happens, that's enough to send anyone down a guilty spiral. And he's glimpsed enough of Johnny, in snatches of dreams and the world's worst first meeting, to know that, for him, that's more than a slight possibility. "It happened. I don't - really know why yet."

The yet is important, because at the very least, like this he can comprehend the Rift a shade more completely, a bit more fully. When it'd first happened he'd gotten the vague sense of anger, or injustice radiating from the thing, but the emotions had been so alien and he'd been so alien that he wasn't sure what to make of it. He's still not.