He visibly flinches at that, a subtle but noticeable twitch to his expression, before his eyes drop to Holland again.

"Yeah," he accepts, "it has."

Holland meets John's eyes as if there's nobody else around, as if there's nothing else he'd rather be looking at. The pain and exhaustion is evident in his features, but John's presence is giving him hope.

"You crazy son of a bitch," Holland says, and there's grudging admiration in that. John smiles in response, but there's something sad about it.

"Holland died over five years ago now," he says finally. "He never made it out of this desert. I was too late."