Dramatic gestures — at least any of the ones John would choose to make — won't do him any good. As much as he wants to throw a fit, there's a greatness numbness that forces in to take over, and he's glad for it.

He presses at the keys, slowly finds his next message, tries to find a reason to pull himself back up on to his feet. So far he's only getting about half the ambition he needs.

I'm sorry. I'm here. You know where to find me.