"Like I'm watching everything happening afterward and from far away," he agreed, breathing acquiring rhythm and slowing into steadiness. "It doesn't seem so bad." He lifted one hand, turned it over in front of his face, then let it rest, gingerly, on his torn chest. "They're going to stop eventually though." It wasn't a question. Daniel was too smart not to know how this worked. In fact, he'd researched it a long time ago. Once he thought he might write something about it, but he gave it up once he got too good at it.