In fairness, Faraday stares a lot. He's spent his whole life reading people, and you can't do that without a lot of looking. It's the excuse he'd give if cornered, and it's the excuse he gives himself in moments like this. Even when he's the one that put himself in that close, and not moving to take a step back.

Some village ain't reassuring. Neither is the rest of it. He just shakes his head as he reluctantly lets go of the cigarette, really wanting it and not just for the tobacco. Having something to do with his hands is a comfort. Comfort not being something this place affords much of in the short time he's been there.

"How long has it been? I can't piece it together," he finally admits, sounding a bit upset that he's even saying it out loud. "Everything was in place, and everyone was fidgeting a bit but you're riled up and it's happens. I remember hearing Billy moving around, and Horne fidgeting, and I was just laying there, just about to drift out and then I'm drowning."

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes because he knows he sounds like a fucking idiot.

"Soon as I got out of the water, I was hightailin' it out of here, trying to get back in time. The sun was up and I knew... I knew I was too late, but I tried."

He's a professional liar and everyone knows that. It has an intensity to it though, an anger under the surface because he hates being seen as a coward. Especially by Vasquez. By the men he had come to see as more than others paid for a job, but dammit. Vasquez is being damn nice about the fact he'd run off, and it left the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"You said we. We all come through the water. Who else is here?" The words, they don't make sense. Not in the way he knows the world to be. Maybe though if they've been through it, they'll understand.