This time, when his face tightens, it's not from anger. Frustration, yes, but...not outright anger.

"What sort of truth are you looking for, then?" he asks, demands really, making a vague gesture at the graves. "The kind that has me admitting this is essentially a midlife crisis?" A bitter laugh, and a hand reaching up to rub at his face. "I suppose it's better than lying on the couch all day, but- not by much."

Besides, he already went through that. Once.

"Things aren't fine. They will be. Eventually."

He has to believe he'll find a way.