He thought of saying something witty to break the tension, maybe get the serious crew to crack smiles instead of wearing those drawn and relieved faces. Like, “If you want a hug you better get in line coz nobody’s dog-piling me,” or something. Instead he managed barely a small shrug and a too quiet, “Hey,” that sounded nothing like him, and really, he had to get over this and soonbecause the others should not be looking at him like he was too fragile to touch.
He needed to touch. He needed to know this world was real; the other one was the nightmare.