"Nah. May as well get it over with." He nudges a pile of folded clothing off a chair with his foot and hooks his ankle around it, tugging that over for Malcolm to use if he wants. "Survivor's guilt, self loathing, some sort of weird drift induced moodswings, chemical dependency-"

He shakes his flask, finishes it and tosses it back under the bed. "And then there's the Ghost Drift issue. It's supposed to stop when the other person dies, right? Nope. I gotta be special. Apparently."