... I--

[And Eliot is right, a little. That he did it all by himself, that Quentin stuck his head in the sand and found the first reason, the first quest he could make up for himself against all reason and all warnings and he threw himself at it. Alone, and wholeheartedly and he ran away, ran in to the next new thing to take him away from all the hard and difficult feelings in the aftermath of insanity.

Quentin shakes his head.]

I don't know. I don't-- I don't know, and I don't know what else to do and it's not because of you. Or, yes, it's because I want to save you, not because-- I'm not ignoring you? I'm just.

[Running, rushing off, and making plans with someone who isn't Eliot, who isn't close to Quentin's heart at all because he could stand to lose every last one of them if it meant keeping Eliot safe. And that's also selfish. That urge, that drive that he kept nagging Julia about, that he stopped plans for and more people died because of Quentin's complete inability to not save Eliot.

This one time.

Because he hadn't been able to before.

Guilt.

And he slumps down over Eliot, shoulders shaking and chest heaving.]

I don't know how else to help you.