Johnny's discomfort is sharp-edged and constant, something turned inward and seeded in a faint impression of ashen wood, dark amorphous spaces, the shape and build of a construct that defies spatial logic.

"I can't imagine what that's like," Daniel says quietly.

His manifestation picks that particular time to sneeze, and for a moment he's gone.

The next, he's fallen into step alongside Johnny again, on his other side, seemingly unaware of the interruption.

"I do know what it is to have something in you that you can't control," he says. "Something you want out of you. It's a - terrible, helpless feeling. And I'm sorry."