"I know it ain't," Jesse mumbles, and he does. But it still gets him on a level he hates, and he reaches to hold onto Galen's shirt, looking down at the sand. He's slowly getting his breathing under control. "He didn't, no, just - scratches."

He has no idea what it is, but something about this bothers him. Can't put his finger on it. But it's enough to make him not be able to stop shaking, so he curls into Galen, with a shivery little sigh.

"He stopped himself, I think. He was gonna, but." Maybe Bruce stopped him. Jesse wishes he could have another chance.