"I know," he answers quietly, and he forces himself to look up at her because if she's come this far with him, all the way through the stupid car accident, then he figures she deserves to hear what he's really feeling, as much as he doesn't want to feel this way. "Maybe a little worrying. I mean, not a lot, just the least amount of worrying because what if next time this happens while I'm walking down the street or--or at whatever job I eventually get or whatever? What if next time it's a lot worse and it's just you and me, and you've gotta, y'know, deal with that, it's not okay. It's not okay." He's unloading on her, and he feels terrible about it because this isn't him; he's a rock star, he's a hero, he can handle a bad dream. But it's not just a dream, is it? No, it's memories buried deep in his mind, and he has no control over when they're going to surface.

His chest is starting to feel tight and wow, okay, that's a major wave of dizziness there. He tries to take deep breaths but it's turning out to be a lot more difficult than he's used to, and he feels like his body's going numb, and the lights seem way brighter than they were, and he just needs to get up, he needs to move. If he moves, he'll have something to do, so he pushes himself up off the tub and sure, he's a little wobbly and kind of regretting leaving the cane in the bedroom now but he can't be all too concerned about that right now.