[Eliot's hand comes up, thumb brushing away a tear, and he frowns at Caleb explains.

He remembers the theater, grabbing his stuff to go, and then ...

He tries to remember past that and his head just blossoms with pain again, tendrils of a headache lancing behind his eyes and down his neck along with in his damn brain. Eliot sucks in a pained breath, pressing a hand to his eyes.]

I don't remember. Or can't remember, more likely, since my head is splitting open when I try. Who killed me? Why? Are you all right? Quentin? Margo, Francis?