It'll be easier later. When he hasn't just spent the week in some bullshit fight-or-flight adjacent mode, with all his shame on display and all the horrors to come boring a hole in his mind like a hot coal through snow. When the fact he fails and fucks up constantly in the future doesn't sting as sharply.

Whatever John is, he's not a scorpion. Or perhaps, whatever he himself is, isn't in a spot where a single sting is enough to kill it anymore.

"I-I don't--" His voice finally quavers, despite himself, and he grips himself tighter, a sharp self-admonishment. "Fuck. I don't want to remember this."