Nothing has been the same since New York. It hasn't been the same for anyone, but I think it's been slowly getting better for them all. But for me, I'm experiencing things. I think it's getting worse.
You experience things when you're just so close to death. And being told about different worlds, Gods, wormholes... All at once, it's too much. And in all of that, what am I? I'm just a smart, above average-looking guy in a tin can. I'm no big shot.
I-I can't sleep, and when I do I have nightmares.
More often than not, I go down and tinker in the lab. I'm up to Mark Forty-One today. I spent around thirty hours on it, if you were wondering; it's really coming around nicely. And these improvements - though a little bloody - are going to be amazing. I just wish I wasn't so damn tired.
I can't remember the last time I actually slept. I know it makes Calico upset, too. At night, I know she stays awake to see if I'll go to sleep. I see the bags under her eyes in the morning. I just feel so terrible for her. Her mother harassing her, it's the holidays, and her man's a complete mess. I see her crying so often. It's heartbreaking.
Calico...
What would I do if she got hurt? Can I still protect my little doll? I know that by now, I'm so used to having her around that it's easy to ignore her, but... What if something actually happens to her? What if she catches the eye of the wrong person again? What if, because I'm a wreck right now, somebody else actually comes along and steals her from me? What if it's Natasha who sweeps her off her feet? That would be hot and all, but I wouldn't want her to leave me.
Okay, maybe not that last part, but still. What would I do without you, Calico Potts?
Sweet Baby Jesus, I need help.
