#starry writes stuff

“Meirda,” Charge groans and swallows, “Feels like I was hit with a truck,”

“You were hit with part of a truck,”

He laughs and it turns into a groan as seemingly instant regret hits. 

“That wasn’t a joke,” Ronan adds.

There’s a quirk of his lip as if he’s going to chuck in a retort but he instead sighs.

Silence, or at least something close to silence hangs heavy over the pair of them as the various monitors around him beep and whir, something else Ronan finds sets them on edge and they tense their bruised knuckles on the edge of the chair and the slight twinge of pain seems to help keep them in the present moment.

“Ronan?” The soft look of concern brings that tension back even as they tense their hand tighter.

“What?”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m…”

“I get it,”

“What?”

“Hospitals,” Charge sighs, “You’d think I’d be used to them by now, considering,” He snorts, "I Remember when I was… three I ended up in one because I managed to smack my head into the corner of the coffee table,” He points to a spot just above his left eyebrow, “Somehow it didn’t scar,”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah,” He sighs, “Well kinda, mama filled in the details at a later date when I’d ended up in the hospital again, when I was a little older”

“What… what was that for?”

“Crashed my bike,” He pauses, “I think it was when I crashed my bike, or did that happen after when I fell out of a tree?” He risks another chuckle, “Fellow frequent flyer?”

It takes Ronan a moment to catch onto the meaning.

“I-”

He catches his lip, and winces, “Sorry if it’s a-”

Ronan shrugs, “I guess?”

“We can trade war stories another time, maybe over beers,”

“I don’t drink,”

“Well… beer for me then… and-”

“I like cherry cola,”

(Why does volunteering that information feel like handing over nuclear launch codes? Even though actually cherry cola is their… third favourite soda)

“There we go,” Ortega grins, despite the split lip, “Beer for me and cherry cola for you,”

“Yeah… maybe,”

The door is right there, probably one of the easiest exit routes they’ve ever had, just need to give some variation of ‘I should go’ and be on their way.

“You… you wanna stay for a while?” He sighs and before Ronan can stay anything, “There’s actually a pretty good tv in here,” He glances towards the remote sitting on the small table next to the hospital bed.

Ronan passes it, they could-

There’s a brief clunk as the tv turns on and-

“We are still at the scene where earlier today The Rangers aided by a mysterious hooded-”

-click-

“Oh no kids! Dr D. Kay has stolen all the fruit and vegetables this looks like a job for-”

-click-

-Guitar riff- "Hey ghouls! It’s Tungsten bringing you the sickest face melters and we’re turning it up to eleven with the newest release from Year of Hell”

-click-

“The question we’re all asking here is how economically viable is it to keep investing in these… heroes”

-click-

“You’ll never defeat me! I am The Dark Lord of Chaos!”

“I haven’t seen this for years,” He passes Ronan the remote and they put it back down. 

Ronan looks at tv as an animated dark armoured figure looms, the picture slightly grainy. Cel animation sharply contrasted over a painted background.

“I’ve… never seen it,”

(At least… Ronan’s pretty sure they’ve never seen it although a twinge of familiarity does prod somewhere in the back of their mind)

“You’re missing out,”

“It looks…” Ronan watches as it cuts to a stiffly animated scene of a golden haired boy lifting a sword and an overlay of… sparkles? covers the screen as a musical sting swells. “Terrible,”

“That’s what makes it good,”

"This is pretty nice!" you smiled as you looked around the apartment. Two small bedrooms, just enough space for both of you, and an open-concept living room with the kitchen and a small dining area. As I said, cozy. You even had a small balcony opening from the living room. It looked down on the narrow streets of New Rome, giving you perfect view of the coffee shop across the street. 'Perfect,' you thought. 'The sooner I can get my hand on a cup of coffee the better.'

As if hearing your thoughts, Jace let out a laugh. "You are already thinking about coffee aren't you."

"I need something to keep me from being cranky on early mornings."

"Oh yeah we don't want another episode of the dreaded mornings of coffee-less Y/N. We all remember what happened last time," a taunting smile grew on his face.

"Oh shut up, you know Octavian deserved it. I only broke two bones anyways. What's it for him?"

"Touché."

"Come on, help me unpack these," you said, motioning to the boxes you two brought. The apartment was already furnished (since landlords know fully well that veterans of the legion have basically nothing but a sword maybe) but you still brought some stuff to make it homier. You both had a few pictures — mainly of each other, and your friends —for example, and you two brought kitchenware as well as pillows and stuff. So you spent the afternoon tidying up the place and really making it feel like home. An old radio that was gifted to you by one of your older brothers, played soft music, setting the mood. Whenever something came on that you knew, you'd sing at the top of your lungs, and Jason would join you. In the end, you winded up laughing uncontrollably on the floor humoring the fact that neither of you could really sing. At all.

Having your best friend as your roommate was positively the best thing that's happened for a while. All seemed perfect. Until you realized that you started catching feeling for said best friend.

It started with simple things after moving in. Him making breakfast one morning because he remembered that you had a long day and an early class, so he wanted to make it easier for you. Or the time that he brought home a bunch of flowers because he decided that you'd like them on the coffee table. And that one very memorable moment when he forgot that you were home, so he sang badly in the shower at maximum volume than walked out of there completely nonchalant with nothing but a towel on. You really had to make yourself remember how to breathe then... Just over all every day seemed like a new, exciting experience that made you fall for him a little more each time.

Little did you know that he has felt like that for the past couple of years. It's been hard for him, having you at an arm's reach but not actually being with you.

Than the nightmares came. Being a demigod was equal to a bad night's sleep, so it was nothing new for either of you. But so far you never had to sleep alone when something like that happened. So even the first time you awoke in the middle of the night in cold sweat, your first thought was to tiptoe across the hallway, and quietly knock on Jason's bedroom door. He opened it in seconds. Seemed like he didn't get much sleep himself either. Inside the lamp on his nightstand was still on. He hasn't even attempted to sleep yet.

When he saw the jaded expression on your face he just gave you a sympathetic smile.

"Bad dreams?" he asked as per usual.

You nodded. "Bad dreams."

He stepped aside, letting you in. His room was slightly bigger than yours but it was less well lit as he only had one window, whilst you had one on the ceiling as well. You chose that room when moving in, since stargazing calmed you immensely. His bed was neatly done, just as anything in that room. Jason was the tydiest person you ever knew. You sat on the edge of his bed.

"Would you mind if I stayed here?" you asked shyly. You two haven't slept togather in a long while, so you were a little afraid of what he'd say. To your surprise, his voice and face both turned soft as he smiled on you.

"Of course. What would I do without you here anyways?"

"Thank you Jase," you smiled up at him and patted the bed next to you.

"I have to finish this plan," he motioned at his desk where a few papers laid.

"It's almost three in the morning, Jason. You need to rest. You can finish tomorrow." Your friends always joked that you were too motherly, but you couldn't not care about the ones you loved. It was just in your nature. Jason let a defeated sigh escape his lips, but he sat down on the bed anyways.

For a short while you just looked at each other in silence, neither of you really keen on moving. You got lost in his sky-blue eyes that always looked so stern yet so, so soft when it was just the two of you.

After what felt like hours but could easily have been mere minutes, he leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear, so he wouldn't disturb the calm and safe aura of the room.

"You know, if you just wanted to stare at me all night, I might as well go back to doing my job, and you could still have all that you want," he said. You didn't dare to look at him but you knew that he had that smug grin on his face that told you he had all the confidence in the world. Your breath hitched at the close proximity, you were certain he could hear it and see the red tint spreading on your cheeks to the top of your ear. If he did notice, however, he didn't comment on it.

"Hush now, and go to sleep," you managed to say after fighting down whatever feelings he awakened in you. He let out a small chuckle, but he obeyed; pulling you down with him. His arms snaked around your waist and he nuzzled his face close to your shoulder. You felt his chest rise and fall. He was already almost asleep. Not tired my ass. You reached over to his bedside table and turned the lamp off, covering the two of you in comfortable darkness. Very soon you were both sleeping soundly knowing that you were in the safest place possible. With each other. No more bad dreams that night.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Where is my diorama?" Jason stormed into your room without knocking, which almost made you spill coffee onto your very important essay on the works of Virgil.

"The one you need to hand in today?" He nodded frantically.

"I last saw it on the dining table."

Jason facepalmed. "How did I forget to look there?"

"You're on edge. This is an important project for you after all. Maybe you should just chill a little," you told him.

"Chill? This is the most important project I ever worked on! If I fail..."

"Jason, your project is perfect. The prof is gonna love it." You tried to calm him down. He hasn't taken a rest in days. You knew how important this project was to him. He specifically took up logistics and strategy as a major to be able to help shake Camp Jupiter up a little and also to be true to his word and honor all gods. This was the first major step towards that goal.

Your features softened as you stood up from your desk, and walked over to him. You simply hugged him close in a manner of making him sure of knowing that you were there for him to help him through the hardest parts of his path. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he hugged you back and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Would you like me to read to you?" you asked him, knowing that it was something that always calmed him down a little for one reason or another.

"Yes please," he nodded politely, and you cracked a smile. Boy was raised by wolves but they raised him damn well.

"C'mon," you said, leading him to the couch in your living room. An old book was already there on the coffee table; you were notorious about leaving your stuff all around the place so you could pick up a book anywhere you were. It's safe to say you were quite the reader. It sometimes drove Jason's OCD mad a little but right now he felt happy that you kept leaving your stuff all around so he didn't have to let you go for a second.

You settled on the couch and he settled on top of you, his head lay comfortably on your stomach. His legs dangled over the arm of the couch, but he didn't seem to mind. With one hand you picked up the book (a Latin translation of The Picture of Dorian Gray that you thoroughly enjoyed) and your other hand found its way into his blond hair, playing with it as you started reading where you left off. Jason didn't mind that you basically started reading mid-sentence, he just wanted to hear you and you knew that all too well, so you didn't even bother going back to the beggining of the chapter. Your voice lulled him into calm slumber and he finally felt like he could relax for a little bit. He was so greatful that you were there with him, and for him. Sometimes he really didn't know what he'd do without you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ :☆ﾟ. ───

He wasn't home for the day. He promised to help train some newbies today so he'd be out all day. You didn't have classes today so you decided it was the best time to get some chores done. You turned on the old radio and did some mild cleaning and laundry. About midway through cleaning the kitchen you started getting cold. Outside now the whole city basked in golden light and golden leaves. Autumn was here. Temperatures dropped and this affected the temperature inside as well. You decided to put on something warmer than the tee shirt you were wearing. Rummaging through your closet however, you realized that your last hoodie was currently in the laundry as you spilled Kool Aid on it yesterday. You sighed. Than you got an idea. Looking around to make sure no-one was looking, you made your way into Jason's room. On his desk chair there was his favourite purple Camp Jupiter hoodie, big and very comfortable. With a smirk on your lips you put the garment on. This wasn't the first time that you resolved to wearing his stuff. It was comfy. And he told you once that he didn't mind as long as he got it back sooner or later.

So that's the sight that he got home to. You dancing around in the living room to Queen with a broom in his hoodie. His day just got better. He stood in the doorway looking at you with a fond smile. You still haven't noticed him. Once the song ended, he laughed and clapped. The look on your face, like a kid caught in the act of stealing candy, was priceless.

"Wonderful performance," he laughed.

"Shut up," you hissed, your face red from embarrassment.

"I think you should bring this to Broadway," he continued, that damned smirk on his face.

"Jason," you sighed loudly, holding out the 'o' in hopes that he would stop.

"That looks cute on you," he added, nodding towards his hoodie. Obviously, he noticed. He always noticed every little detail (as long as he had his glasses on at least).

"I can take it off, if you want," you said, hurriedly, already pulling on the hem.

His smirk widened, a rare, mischievous light shone in his eyes. "I mean, if you really wanna undress, I'm not going to stop you..." he trailed off, and you were once again, red as a tomato. "But you can keep it on. Told you, it looks cute on you."

"Thanks," you said quietly, actually looking up at him now. "Gods what happened to your face?" you exclaimed as you finally realized that his left eye was getting purple.

"One of the kids was getting way too into hand to hand combat," he chuckled.

"This isn't funny, come here," you motioned him over. He stepped closer to you, but he was already telling you not to make a fuss about it. You shut him up by putting a finger on his lips.

"Hush now, and just let me see." He nodded, a soft smile spreading on his lips. You reached your hand to cup his face, and you brushed your thumb against the swollen tissue.

"We're icing this," you decided, already pulling the boy behind you.

"There's no need, it's gonna go down. I've had worse you know. Like the time I was stabbed in the back with a poisoned sword?" he reminded you and you grimaced.

"I don't care if the hecking Minotaur stabbed you with its horns, whatever you say this is a serious injury. Stay there," you ordered him and he stopped, leaning against the kitchen counter with a humorous expression on his face. He watched you fuss over the kitchen looking for frosen peas and then a cloth to cover it with.

"Where did we put it..." you wondered under your breath, and he smirked.

"Top shelf, honey."

"Why did you put those there?"

He shrugged. "I like to feel tall sometimes," he said well aware that you couldn't reach that shelf without climbing the counter. You glared at him and decided to do it yourself.

"You are going to fall off, Y/N," he said but there was no true worry in his voice. You were tough, he knew that.

"Watch me," you huffed.

He didn't wait until you slipped and fell on the smooth surface, so by the time you made your way onto the countertop he was already holding the material. With a firey glare you took it from him.

"We are gonna move those down. Cleaning supplies would be a better fit up there anyways."

"Alright Captain," he smiled at you.

"Says you, Steve Rogers 2.0." The laugh that escaped him at your comment was deep and full and the best thing you've heard. You loved his laugh. It made you feel warm inside. The butterflies in your stomach flapped their wings vigorously, you were sure about that.

"Okay, come here you big doofus."

He stepped closer to you, right between your legs. Now that you were sitting on the counter you were about the same height as he was. You gently removed his glasses and carefully placed the frozen vegetables to his eye, looking out for winces or other giveaways of him being in pain. He endured for the most part. He kept himself up with his arms he placed right beside you on the countertop.

You waited in quiet for some time for the swelling to go down, and it seemed to disappear nicely. Only the radio played still but it sounded to be far away. Your mother hen nature kicked in and for you at the moment there was nothing but Jason and the way you took care of him. By the time the swelling went down, you gazed at each other in silence for a long time. Long enough to notice the way his lips smiled fondly at you or the way his tiny scar curled when that happened. You could see the barely noticeable tiny freckles on his face, barely a different color from his cheeks. His free eye studied you with care flickering up and down your face, studying the way you scrunched up your nose and slipped your tounge out a tiny bit in deep concentration like you were operating him. He laughed to himself. What did he do to deserve you? He loved everything about you, and right now it was almost painful not kissing you and holding you until the end of days.

Finally you moved the ice away, placing it on the counter beside you. Your gentle touch still lingered on his face. Once again neither of you were keen on moving even an inch further apart. You brushed your finger under his eyes.

"Okay, that's going to heal nicely. But if it gets worse, I'm taking you to the infirmary."

He cracked a smile.

"Okay," he breathed out. "Thank you."

"That's what I do," you smiled, looking down sheepishly.

"I'm not sure you know how much it means to me that you are here with me," he whispered softly.

"Tell me then," you smiled at him sweetly.

"What if I showed you instead?" he asked, his hands steadying on your hips and his eyes flickered to your lips.

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as you answered. "That's okay too."

First his lips just gently brushed over yours as your eyes fluttered shut. He quite literally took your breath away even with that little ghost of a kiss. You leaned in, your hands still cupping his face, asking for more and more. You pulled him as close as you possibly could as he kissed you once more, sweet and curious sensation. You could feel his heart beating just as quick as yours did and you wanted to moment to never ever end. You wanted to stay like that forever.

When you parted, he tilted is forhead against yours, as he still held you in his arms.

"I love you. I couldn't ask for a better person to share my home with. I think actually you are my home," he whispered.

"And you are mine. I think I love you two Jason."

"I guess this means you are going to stay my roommate for a very long time," he smirked against your lips.

And still instead Matt just stood there with the clippers still on the side of the sink.

“Matt?” Libby’s now very familiar voice echoed across the hall, and Libby’s also now very familiar hand with it’s familiar nailpolish rested on a familiar bathroom door that really needed to be repainted, “Uh… you didn’t lock the door?”

Matt shrugged and turned her attention away from the mirror, “I wasn’t doing anything you wouldn’t want to see,” and tensed her hands on the sides of the familiar, slightly stained sink.

Libby looked at Matt and then the clippers, “Want a hand?”

“What?”

Libby paused, catching her lip, “You’re gonna clip your hair right? Want me to help?”

Matt swallowed and ran a hand over the shaved parts of her mostly red hair, “It… it is getting a bit… shaggy,”  Of course Libby had seen the clippers sitting unused on the side of the sink for the last few days, “Do you… know how to use those?”

“Yeah,”

Matt let out a sigh, “Ok then,”

Libby moved grabbing a towel and then grabbing the clippers, “Uh grade two sound about right?”

“Yeah I think?” Matt looked up briefly catching their familiar face in the familiar mirror. The scar was almost familiar now too now that she thought about it.  

Libby placed the towel around Matt’s shoulders, and then Libby’s familiar hand did something unfamiliar.

Matt tensed for a moment feeling Libby’s hand sliding into the back of her hair, “Yeah you do need a trim,”  And then Matt leant her head back a little bit, and was pretty sure Libby’s hair was staying there a little longer than it needed to, “Grade two should be just about right,”

Matt felt Libby’s hand tense in the back of her hair and caught her lip, part of her realising that she had been missing… this… as in touch.

“Matt?”

She snapped back to reality, blinking and letting out a soft sigh she kind of hoped that Libby didn’t hear but then part of her maybe wanted Libby to hear it,

Libby let out a snort, “Hey ground control this is Major Tom, just nod if you can hear me,”

“Hey,” Matt paused, “You’re muddling up two songs from two different artists,”

“So you’re still with me, good. I need you to tip your head forward,”

He takes a moment to shuck the trench and it lands with a dull thump on the floor as Nemo sprawls, platform boots (with the obligatory excessive amount of buckles and decorative metal hardware) clad feet over the arm of the sofa.  

He glances towards the boots, a silent ‘want some help?’’ and Nemo slowly shifts position to place their boot clad feet on the floor. 

He kneels. 

Nemo makes a surprised ‘huh’ as he does so and there’s just enough alcohol in his system to stop him thinking too much about the fact he's kneeling.

“I think-” Nemo reaches out to cup his chin (And that’s the death knell of him thinking about anything really) “I think you like being-” They pause, “Like being-” 

“Your knight in shining New Rocks?” He offers up as he idly traces his fingers up the back of their boot.

“Yeah” They tipsily giggle as they press a kiss to his nose before they softly kiss him.

He kisses back and shudders as Nemo catches his lip as he brushes the back of their knee, denim under his fingers. 

Nemo breaks the kiss and he licks his lips and swallows hard before he turns his attention to their boots in all their platformed, excessive buckles and decorative hardware glory. 

Buckles first. 

He manages to deftly loosen each one. Trails his fingers over the front of their boot as he makes his way to their inner leg as he trails his fingers up the zip before he eases it down. 

He gently guides Nemo out of the boot and they wiggle their toes and sigh with relief.

Before he can turn his attention to the other boot Nemo tips up his chin to kiss him again, harder. 

Warmth floods through him leaves him lightheaded in a way that can’t be blamed on the alcohol as he presses his cheek against Nemo’s leg and he swallows hard as Nemo ruffles his hair. 

He turns his attention to the other boot and begins to deftly loosen the buckles but this time he lingers, keeps brushing his fingers against the leather lost in the texture of it and then-

“Gerry?” Nemo’s fingers are in his hair again, “You ok?” “Mhmm,” He sighs as he nuzzles the leather downright divine against his cheek, the warmth within him further stoked as Nemo continues to play with his hair. 

He’s just about regained his composure when he dares to look upward and a soft sigh of “You’re so cute,” makes him bury his face again. 

Eventually, Nemo’s freed. 

And he continues to kneel, flushed and lightheaded in a way that can’t be blamed totally on the alcohol as he now rests his chin on their knee. And although he’s not in much of a state to think about anything right now he does know something about all this feels so incredibly right.

Nemo beckons him with a finger.

He needs no further encouragement as he shifts upward, hands braced either side of their head as he kisses them. Catches their lip as he feels them grab his hips which he takes as a silent more that he’s all too willing to indulge. 

He pants as he watches them, eyes half lidded and pretty sure his hands braced on the back of the sofa are the only thing keeping him somewhat tethered to reality. 

“I-” Nemo leans back against the sofa, “I want to go to bed,” 

There’s no shouting, no tears, no pleas, no slammed doors.

Just a soft ‘No’ that’s somehow forceful enough to stun them into silence.

He shakily lets go of their hand, then reaches out again to cup both of them and finally breaks the eternity of a pause with

“I just-” 

“Know?” Nemo offers up as they reach out to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.

There’s a quirk of a lip that could be read as a smile before he catches his lip. 

Nemo’s unsure as to how glib his answer will be, and judging from how long it takes him to settle on a nod he was as well. 

He slowly lets go of their hands, Nemo reaches out to cup his face, light stubble under their palms  and he presses his forehead to theirs with another sigh, Nemo’s touch slowly retreats and he reaches out to cup their chin before he kisses them. 

It’s a fleeting thing, a brief brush of lips like the countless See you soons they’ve shared. 

Neither of them has said much. 

That’s not unusual. Most of the time falling into what both of them would class as comfortable silence, and today a certain pleasant haziness that smoothes out the sharper edges of Nemo’s mind is kicking in that would make that comfortable silence downright cosy. 

But

“Gerry,” 

“Yeah?” 

Nemo pauses, they could just say something mundane, safe. Sort of topics that are tailor made for talks in parks in later summer afternoons that last for hours without meaning anything but also meaning everything. 

But

The question rubs like the awkwardly aligned seam on the toe of their sock that they’re becoming way too aware of right now. Must like they’d become way too aware of how the dark circles under his eyes seemed darker, the way he was clinging onto his rucksack strap tighter than usual, and how Nemo swears those grazes on his knuckles they’d spotted when he’d lit his joint weren’t there the last time they’d met and just a general… heaviness around him. 

“You ok?” 

“I’m-” Gerry takes a swig of his coke, too much, he splutters, swallows, groans then mutters “Fucking bubbles,” 

Nemo somehow manages to swallow the giggle. 

“That bad huh?” Nemo offers a grin over their own can before they take a swig with way less disastrous consequences. 

Gerry snorts. 

Gerry sighs. 

Gerry starts to fiddle with the tab on the can before he turns to Nemo with a shrug, “I don’t know,” 

“You don’t know?”

“Yeah,” He downs the rest of the coke without incident before he settles down on the grass, propped up on his elbows, “I don’t know,” 

Nemo manages a quiet, “Oh,” before they join him.

He starts to laugh. 

“Not as if I even know what okay means anyway, so how the fuck would I even know if I'm ok-”

Nemo tenses, “Sorry-”

“Shit…” He mutters, “I didn’t mean it like that… It’s ok you asked if I’m ok even if i have no fucking idea what ok even means…”

“Ok?” Nemo interjects. 

They both laugh, longer than they probably need to, both of them suddenly feeling light as feathers and candyfloss and other metaphors they can’t quite remember right now. 

Gerry clears his throat, “I’m… not used to,” He makes a vague hand gesture, “This,” 

Somehow Nemo’s slightly addled brain works out exactly what This means, “All I know is everything has been…”  They feel a sour twist in their stomach as he pauses, “Completely fucked since day one, I’ve been completely fucked since day one-”

“Ger?” Nemo’s eyes widen. 

“Fuck,” He mumbles barely audible, “Sorry,” He pauses, “Look I’m… are we at the stage of digging into our respective dark nights of the soul and comparing notes?”

Nemo raises an eyebrow, “You do remember how we met right?” And sighs, an unspoken  “And what I am-”

“Yeah,” He pauses then snorts, “Guess we kinda skipped a few steps,” before he lies down in the grass. 

“Lucky us,” Nemo mutters as they join him, the grass soft under their fingertips (really soft) as they trail their fingers through it. 

There’s another pause, a long one where Nemo has been paying quite a lot of attention to a very… cloud shaped cloud.

“I do know one thing though,” Gerry breaks the silence.

“Mhmm?”

“I… I don’t want to get into any of that” he sighs, “Not… right now, I’m actually feeling pretty good right now,” He chuckles, “And don’t want to waste it” He breaches the space between them to brush his little finger against theirs, Nemo turns to look at him, “That I want to spend time with you, being around you… it… helps?” 

“Makes you feel normal?” Nemo offers up.