Gary is okay with this. It is a comfort--the comfort, typically--to pretend like everything is normal. He doesn't need to worry about the tingling numbness, very different from the stiff numbness of adrenaline, creeping through his arms and legs and up his back. He doesn't need to worry about how sluggish his breathing is getting, or his erratic heartbeat. He's tired because he hasn't slept and the anesthetics in that medicine vial are kicking in. Yes, that must be it. Everything's fine.

Perhaps it's a good thing that Gary isn't thinking straight enough to realize that Nitou is being serious. "Is that like...where you pull a bunch of flowers out of a hat, but in reverse?"