Really, Ed wanted to be petulant and walk, but he was in the middle of nowhere and it was raining, so all he could do was get up by his own damn self, smoke his joint and try and look so very over it. It was helping him that this wasn't his first panic attack, even if it was chemically induced and a whole lot more lively. He knew how to cope. Or how to pretend that he was coping, anyway. Inwardly, he still felt like curling up and crying in fear. "Your hypothesis is closer to being correct than your father's. I'll say that."

And with that he headed for the door, so he could get the hell out of here.