Wilderness Survival
"I do. When I was --" He'd pause. Looking down at his hands he watched his finger as it tapped the side of his cup. He'd sway his shoulders a bit, as though he needed to shake what he wanted to say loose from the usual barriers that then to keep him closed off from the world. "After the Chitauri invasion in New York, I couldn't sleep for weeks."
It was a year. Almost eighteen months, actually, but that still felt like too much to say. Too tragic and sad and irresponsible. "So I just worked, I build suit after suit, as though planning for everything that might happen was possible. It was like group therapy, really, but I couldn't talk to anyone so I just kept building new group members."