Will’s appetite was neither here nor there. It was currently thrown off from enforced restriction back to normal, and it was going to take some effort not to swing too hard the other way. “I’m tired,” he said, feeling spikey and kind of irritable. “My fingers hurt. My lungs feel burnt. My shoulder is killing me. I’m a giant bruise and I have taser burns and my head aches and my stomach is too small, and I did it all for people who don’t know it was me and probably wouldn’t care if they did. That’s how I am.” He just needed to shut his eyes and forget everything for about fifteen hours or so, and wake up better able to deal with everything.