[It should feel good, hearing that. In a way it does, something small and warm that's all quickly overturned by the nausea that comes with hope-- other people's hopes and dreams-- resting on his own shoulders where he's only ever felt like a splinter against the grain. He isn't sure he deserves it.

But there's still the wan flex of a smile written over the white of his teeth.] Thanks, man.

I was just-- [Stops again. Thins his lips to the tune of his own heartbeat, throbbing away in his veins, his skull. If he's tired of anything by this point, he's tired of lying. Opens his eyes again, and there's a clearness to it that doesn't run parallel to all the drugs or medical equipment.] I didn't-- do it for them.

I mean I knew it was the right thing to do, but I didn't go back pretending I was a hero. [One beat:] I went back for her.

[Alright, yeah, the drugs are definitely still in there.]