He rakes through her hair and calls her all the wrong names -- her first time alone with a man and it has to be like this, narcotic kisses, clumsy hands. When he manages to make it to bed it's a little better -- stale motel bedsheets and out-of-order Magic Fingers, and no condoms. It's bad, but all of it is bad. Half the time he can't even do it, or he falls asleep. Seth Gecko in repose, a dopey monster, and Kate alongside him in the dark, listening for his next breath -- as close as two people can be without touching.