He doesn't fight to keep the bottle. He's had too much already, and he can tell, it's just inertia that's keeping him going at this point.

"I don't know. I don't know a damn thing."

He let out a hard breath, then carefully picked up the picture, sliding it into his breast pocket, to sit alongside the ring that still lay there.

"Sorry, Gunny. You're right. Need to just - focus on what we're doin'. I just - I feel like maybe I got too comfortable, for a second, and then whoever it is that's doin' this to us just - went and shoved the knife in."