[Fine, he could say -- for the hundredth, thousandth, millionth time -- and even opens his mouth to do so, but then he hesitates, glancing away.]

Things... are what they are.

[Because he's not fine, far from fine, and he's trying to lie to himself a little less these days; and if anyone could catch him in this particular one, it's Trip, whether or not he cares to.]

I'm sure you'll be glad to know I haven't accidentally killed anyone lately, this aside.